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LECTURES 


THE  BOOK  OF 


ECCLESIASTES 


BY  RALPH  ^ARDLAW,  D.  D. 

Author  of  Discourses  on  the  Principal  points  of  the  Socinian  Costb©- 

FEKST,  UnITAUIANISM  InCAPABLE  OF   VINDICATION,  &C.  &C. 


TWO  VOLUMES  IN  ONE 


PHILADELPHIA: 

PUBLISHED  BY  W.  W.  WOODWARD,  NO.  52,  SOUTH 
SECOND   STREET. 

iS22. 


PREFACE. 


The  following  lectures  were,  in  the  substance  of  them, 
delivered,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  my  weekly  mini- 
strations, in  the  years  1810  and  1811.  They  have  been 
entirely  recomposed  for  the  press. — Both  their  original 
delivery,  and  their  subsequent  preparation  for  the  pub- 
lic in  their  present  form,  were  suggested  by  the  state  of 
the  times,  which  appeared,  in  the  afflictive  visitations  of 
providence  upon  the  mercantile  interests  of  our  coun- 
try, to  press  so  powerfully  the  great  lessons  of  the  Book 
of  Ecclesiastes  upon  the  attention  of  its  inhabitants ; 
and  nowhere  was  the  call  more  imperious,  to  "lay 
these  lessons  to  heart,"  than  in  this  great  manufac- 
turing city. 

By  this  statement,  the  expectation  will  at  once  be 
precluded,  in  the  reader's  mind,  of  critical  or  philolo- 
gical disquisition.  Of  this,  for  very  obvious  reasons,  it 
is  the  duty  of  a  public  teacher  of  the  word  of  God,  to 
be  as  sparing  as  is  consistent  with  fidelity  to  truth.  His 
first  concern,  it  is  true,  ought  certainly  to  be,  to  disco- 
ver, in  every  passage,  "  the  mind  of  the  Spirit," — the 
sentiment  originally  intended  by  the  inspired  writers  to 


IV  PREFACE. 

be  conveyed ;  for  any  other  sentiment  is  not  Divine 
revelation :— and  therefore,  if,  in  any  particular  instance, 
he  is  satisfied  that  the  sense  has  been  misapprehended 
by  our  English  translators,  it  becomes  incumbent  upon 
him,  with  modesty,  to  point  out  the  mistake,  and  to 
give  what  appears  to  be  the  true  meaning.  I  need  not 
say,  however,  that  in  the  fulfilment  of  this  duty,  (for  I 
will  not  call  it  the  mere  use  of  a  liberty, )  self.diffidence 
and  caution  are  peculiarly  requisite. — In  the  following 
discourses,  I  have,  with  very  few  exceptions,  assumed 
the  correctness  of  the  common  English  Version,  in  ex- 
pressing the  sense  of  the  original,  being  satisfied,  that 
in  most  instances  in  which  different  translations  have 
been  proposed,  its  claims  to  preference  are  at  least  not 
inferior  to  those  of  others. 

Those  who  are  desirous  of  examining  the  Book  cri- 
tically, may  have  recourse  to  such  authors  as  Desvoeux, 
Schultens,  Dathius,  Van  der  Palm,  Hodgson,  and 
others.  In  their  works,  the  various  opinions  may  be 
seen  which  have  been  entertained  by  different  critics 
and  commentators,  respecting  its  great  general  object ; 
along  with  abundance,  more  and  less  valuable,  of  phi- 
lological remark  and  dissertation,  for  the  elucidation  of 
particular  portions  of  it.— The  commentary  of  Bishop 
Reynolds,  as  edited  by  the  Rev-  Mr.  Washbourne 
in  1811,  I  did  not  see  till  the  last  of  these  lectures 
was  at  press. 

The  general  design  of  the  Book  is  by  some  conceived 
to  be  simple,  by  others  more  complex  ;  and  in  this  de- 
partment of  sacred  literature,  as  in  others,  there  are  not 
wanting  occasional  indications  of  the  love  of  hypothesis, 
and  originality.  There  has  been  also,  I  am  tempted  to 


PREFACE.  V 

think,  an  unnecessary  creation  of  difficulties.     It  sterns 
sufficiently  clear,  that  the  writer's  first  design  is  to  illus- 
trate and  prove,  by  a  variety  of  examples,  taken  from 
his  own  experience  and  his  observation  of  others,  the 
position  that  "  all  is  vanity  ;"  the  insufficiency  of 
all  the  labours,  and  pursuits,  and  earthly  pleasures  of 
men,  to  confer  true  happiness  ;  an  insufficiency  arising 
from  the  sinfulness  of  some  of  them,  the  illusory  nature 
of  others,  and  the  precariousness  and  short-lived  con- 
tinuance of  all.  This  position  he  lays  down  at  the  out- 
set of  his  treatise  ;  twenty  times  he  directly  repeats  it, 
and  oftener  still  alludes  to  it,  in  the  course  of  his  de- 
tails; and  when  he  has  finished  his  proofs  and  illustra- 
tions, he   formerly  re-announces  it  in  his  peroration. 
This  ought  surely  to  be  enough,  to  determine  the  text 
of  a  discourse. — But  there  is  an  object  of  the  writer 
ulterior  to  the  establishment  of  this  position.   It  would 
not  have  been  enough   for  him  to   expose  the   false 
sources  of  happiness,  without  directing  to  the  true;  — 
to  break  in  pieces  the  cisterns  that  men  have  hewed  out 
for  themselves,  without  conducting  to  the  "  fountain  of 
living  water  ;"    to  point  out  the  folly  of  the  answers 
which  men  have  given  to  the  question,  *^  Who  will 
show  us   good?" — and  to  give  no  satisfying  reply  to 
it  himself      His  ultimate   object,   therefore,  is  not  to 
make  good  the  position,  that  "all  is  vanity,"  but  rather, 
upon  the  establishment  of  this  afiecting  truth,  to  found 
the  further  position,  that  to  "  fear  God  and  keep  his 
commandments  is  the  whole"  duty,  and  honour,  and 
happiness  "of  man."  This  is   "  the  conclusion  of  the 
whole  matter."— and  can  any  conclusion  be  conceived, 
to  which  it  could  be  more  worthy  of  inspiration  to  con- 
duct the  erring  creatures  of  God  ? 


VI  PREFACE. 

I  ENJOYED  much  pleasure  in  the  study  and  expose 
tion  of  this  interesting  portion  of  the  word  of  God ;  and 
the  pleasure  has  been  renewed  in  preparing  the  dis- 
courses for  the  press.  Whether  they  shall  give  satis- 
faction to  others,  remains  now  to  be  ascertained.  Every 
author,  of  course,  indulges  a  hope,  that  his  work  may 
not  be  altogether  unacceptable.  But  in  publishing,  as 
in  preaching,  there  ought  to  be  a  higher  aim  than  to 
please.  The  great  concern  should  be,  to  impress  the 
lessons  of  Divine  wisdom,  and  the  necessity  of  their 
immmediate  reduction  to  practice.  If  such  impression 
be  not  produced,— if  no  practical  result  be  effected, — 
it  will  litde  avail  the  reader,  that  he  has  merely  been 
gratified,  nor  ought  it,  surely,  to  satisfy  the  writer. 
*'  Lo  !  thou  art  unto  them  as  a  very  lovely  song,  of  one 
who  hath  a  pleasant  voice,  and  can  play  well  on  an  in- 
strument :  for  they  hear  thy  words,  but  they  will  not 
do  them." 

The  Sermon  subjoined  to  the  second  volume  is  one 
which,  it  may  justly  be  thought,  if  published  at  all, 
ought  to  have  been  published  immediately  after  the 
mournful  event  on  occasion  of  which  it  was  delivered. 
I  had  long  given  up  all  intention  of  its  publication.  But 
as  it  so  happened,  that  the  second  of  these  volumes 
wanted  a  little  to  bring  it  to  an  equality  with  the  first, 
it  was  suggested  to  me,  that  this  discourse  might  form 
an  appropriate  sequel  to  the  pathetic  description,  in  the 
twelfth  chapter,  of  the  frailties  of  age,  and  the  final  close 
of  life, — when  "  The  dust  returns  to  the  earth  as  it  was, 
and  the  spirit  returns  to  God  who  gave  it." — In  these 
circumstances,  I  consented  to  its  insertion, — not  with- 
out hesitation  ;— yet  in  the  pleasing  hope  that,  whilst 
it  affords  a  gratification  to  filial  affection,  it  may  not  be 


PREFACE.  VU 

unprofitable,  as  a  commendatory  exemplification  of  the 
excellence  of  true  religion,  in  youth  and  in  age,  in  life 
and  in  death  ;  and  thus  an  appropriate  illustration  of  the 
great  lesson  with  which  the  Book  concludes. 

I  COMMEND  the  work  to  the  blessing  of  that  God, 
the  sacred  lessons  of  whose  word  it  is  intended  to  illus- 
trate and  recommend. 

R.   W. 

Glasgow,       ") 
Septemfjf-r  28tlh  1821.  C 


LECTURE  I. 


ECCLES.  i.  1 11. 

1  "  The  ivords  of  the  Preacher,  the  son  of  David,  king  of  Jerusalem^ 

2  Vanity  of  vanities,  saith  the  Preacher,  -vanity  of  vanities ;  all  (is  J 
o  vanity.     What  profit  hath  a  man  of  all  his  labour  which  he  taketh 

4  under  the  sun?     C  One  J  generation  fiasseth  away,  and  (another J 

5  generation  cometh~:  but  the  earth  abideth  for  ever.    The  sun  also 
ariseth,  and  the  sun  goeth  down,  and  hasteth  to  his  {ilace  where  he 

6  arose.  The  wind  goeth  toward  the  south,  and  turneth  about  unto  the 
north  :  it  whirleth  about  continually  :  and  the  wind  retumeth  again 

7  according  to  his  circuits.  .All  the  rivers  run  into  the  sea  ;  yet  the  sea 
(is  J  not  full:  unto  the  place  from  whence  the  rivers  come,  thither 

8  they  return  again.  All  things  (are)  full  of  labour -,  man  cannot  utter 
(it  :J  the  eye  is  not  satisfied  with  seeing,  nor  the  ear  filed  with  hear- 

9  ing.  The  thing  that  hath  been,  it  (is  that  J  which  shall  be;  and  that 
which  is  done,  (is  J  that  which  shall  be  done  :  and  (there  is  J  no  neny 

10  (thing)  under  the  sun.  Is  there  (any)  thing  whereof  it  may  be 
said.  See,  this  (is  J  new  ?  it  hath  been  already  of  old  time,  which  was 

11  before  us.  (There  is)  7io  remembrance  of  former  C  things  ; )  neither 
shall  there  be  (any  J  remembrance  of  (things)  that  are  to  come  with 
(those J  that  shall  come  after. '^ 


A  HE  account  given  us,  in  the  Old  Testament  history^ 
of  the  early  character  of  Solomon,  and  of  the  com- 
mencement of  his  reign,  is  such  as  cannot  fail  to  impart 
the  purest  delight  to  every  pious  and  benevolent  mind. 
In  the  following  simple  narrative,  we  know  not  whether 
to  be  most  charmed  with  the  self-diffidence  and  piety  of 
the  man,  or  with  the  disinterested  patriotism  of  the 
prince: — *•  In  Gibeon  the  Lord  appeared  to  Solomon 
in  a  dream  by  night :  and  God  said.  Ask  what  I  shall 
give  thee.  And  Solomon  said,  Thou  hast  showed  unto 
thy  servant  David  my  father  great  mercy,  according  as 
he  walked  before  thee  in  truth,  and  in  righteousness, 
B 


10  1.ECTURE  I. 

and  in  uprightness  of  heart  with  thee ;  and  thou  hast 
kept  for  him  this  great  kindness,  that  thou  hast  given 
him  a  son  to  sit  on  his  throne,  as  (it  is)  this  day.  And 
now,  O  Lord  my  God,  thou  hast  made  thy  servant 
king  instead  of  David  my  fiither ;  and  I  (am  but)  a  little 
child :  I  know  not  (how)  to  go  out  or  come  in.  And 
thy  servant  (is)  in  the  midst  of  thy  people  which  thou 
hast  chosen,  a  great  people,  that  cannot  be  numbered 
nor  counted  for  multitude.  Give  therefore  thy  servant 
an  understanding  heart  to  judge  thy  people,  that  I  may 
discern  between  good  and  bad :  for  who  is  able  to  judge 
this  thy  so  great  a  people  ?  And  the  speech  pleased  the 
Lord,  that  Solomon  had  asked  this  thing.  And  God 
said  unto  him.  Because  thou  hast  asked  this  thing,  and 
hast  not  asked  for  thyself  long  life  ;  neither  hast  asked 
riches  for  thyself,  nor  hast  asked  the  life  of  thine  ene- 
mies ;  but  hast  asked  for  thyself  understanding  to  dis- 
cern judgment;  behold,  I  have  done  according  to  thy 
words  ;  lo,  I  have  given  thee  a  wise  and  an  understand- 
ing heart ;  so  that  there  was  none  like  thee  before  thee, 
neither  after  thee  shall  any  arise  like  unto  thee.  And  I 
have  also  given  thee  that  which  thou  hast  not  asked, 
both  riches  and  honour  :  so  that  there  shall  not  be  any 
among  the  kings  like  unto  thee  all  thy  days.  And  if 
thou  wilt  walk  in  my  ways,  to  keep  my  statutes  and 
my  commandments,  as  thy  father  David  did  walk,  then 
I  will  lengthen  thy  days.  And  Solomon  awoke  ;  and, 
behold,  (it  was)  a  dream  :  and  he  came  to  Jerusalem, 
and  stood  before  the  ark  of  the  covenant  of  the  Lord, 
and  offered  up  burnt-offerings,  and  offered  peace-offer- 
ings, and  made  a  feast  to  all  his  servants."  1  Kings 
iii.  5—15. 

The  same  features  of  character  are  beautifully  ex- 
emplified in  the  opening  scenes  of  his  reign,    i^ehold 


ECCLES.  I.   1 — '11.  i% 

him,  at  the  dedication  of  the  Temple,  assembling  all 
Israel  together;  bringing  up  to  its  place  the  ark  of 
the  covenant  of  the  Lord  ;  pouring  out  in  public  to 
Jehovah  the  thanksgivings  of  a  grateful  heart ;  blessing 
the  people  in  his  name ;  standing  before  the  altar  of 
God,  spreading  forth  his  hands  towards  heaven,  and, 
with  humble  reverence,  and  holy  fervour,  and  patri- 
otic affection,  uttering  aloud  his  prayers  and  interces- 
sions to  the  most  High ;  offering  the  sacriSces  of  dedi= 
cation ;  renewing  his  benedictions  to  the  vast  assem- 
bly ;  and,  after  fourteen  days  of  sacred  festivity,  send- 
ing them  away, — "  blessing  the  king,  and  joyful  and 
glad  of  heart  for  all  the  goodness  which  the  Lord  had 
done  for  David  his  servant,  and  for  Israel  his  people."* 
In  proportion,  my  brethren,  as  we  are  gratified  and 
delighted  by  these  accounts  of  the  character  of  Solo- 
mon's youth,  and  of  the  auspicious  beginning  of  his 
government,  will  our  feelings  of  disappointment  and 
grief  be  intense,  when  we  contemplate  his  subsequent 
deviations  from  the  ways  of  wisdom,  and  lamentable 
"  departure  from  the  living  God." — "  For  it  came  to 
pass,  when  Solomon  was  old,  (that)  his  wives  turned 
away  his  heart  after  other  gods  :  and  his  heart  was  not 
perfect  with  the  Lord  his  God,  as  (was)  the  heart  of 
David  his  father.  For  Solomon  went  after  Ashtoreth 
the  goddess  of  the  JZidonians,  and  after  Milcom  the 
abomination  of  the  Ammonites.  And  Solomon  did  evil 
in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  and  went  not  fully  after  the 
Lord,  as  (did)  David  his  father.  Then  did  Solomon 
build  an  high-place  for  Chemosh  the  abomination  of 
Moab,  in  the  hill  that  (is)  before  Jerusalem,  and  for 
Molech  the  abomination  of  the  children  of  Ammono 
And  likewise  did  he  for  all  his  strange  wives,  who 

*  See  1  Kings,  cbap.  viij. 


i2  LECTURE  I. 

burnt  incense,  and  sacrificed  unto  their  gods.  And  the 
Lord  was  angry  with  Solomon,  because  his  heart  was 
turned  from  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  who  had  appeared 
unto  him  twice ;  and  had  commanded  him  concerning 
this  thing,  that  he  should  not  go  after  other  gods  ;  but 
he  kept  not  that  which  the  Lord  commanded."  1  Kings 
xi.  4—10. 

Alas!  how  fallen I—x^nd,  judging  from  the  history 
alone,  we  should  have  been  left  to  conclude, — fallen  fi- 
nally I — Much,  however,  is  to  be  learned,  by  the  com- 
parison of  one  part  of  Scripture  with  another.  If,  for 
example,  (to  give  an  instance  analogous  to  the  one  be- 
fore us) — if  wc  had  no  other  record  of  Manasseh's  reign 
than  that  contained  in  the  twenty-first  chapter  of  the 
second  book  of  Kings,  we  should  have  known  nothing 
of  him  but  his  extraordinary  wickedness,  the  idolatry, 
oppression,  and  sanguinary  cruelty  of  his  administra- 
tion ; — -we  should  have  contemplated  him,  with  the 
painful  feelings  of  abhorrence  and  reprobation,  dying 
as  he  had  lived,  sinking  into  the  grave  under  a  load  of 
unrepented  crime  and  unobliterated  infamy.  But  when 
we  compare  the  additional  account  given  of  him  in  the 
thirty-third  chapter  of  the  second  Book  of  Chronicles, 
we  see  him  brought  back,  by  sanctified  affliction,  to  the 
God  whom  he  had  so  awfully  forsaken  and  dishonoured, 
a  subject  of  that  '^  broken  and  contrite  spirit  which  He 
does  not  despise,"  and  an  interesting  and  encouraging 
example  of  the  freedom  and  riches  of  Divine  grace. — 
The  Book  of  Ecclesiastes  presents  us  with  a  similar 
comfortable  and  cheering  view  of  the  latter  days  of  the 
life  of  Solomon.  We  behold  him  here,  after  a  tempo- 
rary apostasy  from  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  ^^  confessing, 
and  forsaking,  and  finding  mercy."  We  behold  him, 
returning  from  the  broken  and  empty  cisterns  of  the 


ECCLES.  I.   1—11.  13 

world  to  the  Fountain  of  living  water ;  recording,  for 
the  admonition  of  future  ages,  his  own  folly  and  shame, 
the  bitterness  of  his  disappointment,  and  the  salutary 
kssons  he  had  learned  from  the  infatuated  and  impious 
experiment  of  seeking  happiness  in  the  vanities  of  the 
world  without  God. 

That  the  Book  was  the  composition  of  Solomon,  the 
title  bears  ;  universal  tradition  affirms ;  and  internal  evi- 
dence concurs  to  prove, — there  being  many  things  in  it 
which  will  apply  to  no  one  else. — With  the  doubts 
which  have  at  times  been  expressed,  and  the  answers 
which  have  been  given  to  them,  I  shall  not  at  present 
trouble  you.  Some  of  them  have  arisen  from  certain 
passages  in  the  Book  itself,  having  appeared  inconsistent 
with  the  dictates  of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  other  parts  of 
the  Sacred  volume,  and  expressive  of  sentiments  dan- 
gerous or  at  least  ambiguous.  The  true  interpretation 
of  these  passages  will  come  to  be  considered  in  their  re- 
spective places ;  when  their  perfect  harmony  with  the 
rest  of  the  Bible,  will,  we  trust,  be  satisfactorily  shown, 
and  their  title  sufficiently  established  to  the  character 
belonging  to  all  that  is  ^'  given  by  inspiration  of  God,'' 
—the  character  of  being  "  profitable  for  instruction,  for 
conviction,  for  reformation,  and  for  education  in  righ^ 
teousness."* 

And,  whilst  external  and  internal  evidences  establish 
the  genuineness  of  the  treatise,  as  the  production  of  the 
prince  whose  name  it  bears ;  the  same  descriptions  of 
proof  assign  its  composition  to  a  period  of  his  life  sub- 
sequent to  his  temporary  apostasy  from  the  service  and 
the  ways  of  God. — 'This  is  the  testimony  of  Jewish  tra- 
dition ;  and,  whilst  every  right  feeling  should  induce  us 

*  2  Tim.  iii.  16,  Tr^k  ^tSko-KHXtiXv,  veo;  i>^*y^Vy  ir^o;  irravo^^uj'iv,  Tr^i;  TrxtSiinv  tv; 


14  LECTURE  I. 

to  wish  the  testimony  true,  there  is  enough  in  the  book 
itself  to  vindicate  our  judgments  from  the  imputation 
of  credulity  in  believing  it. — For,  if  it  was  written  by 
Solomon  at  all,  at  what  other  time  of  his  life  could  it  be 
written  ?  Not  before  his  apostasy  :  for  then  he  had  not 
been  guilty  of  the  madness  and  impiety  described.  Not 
during  its  continuance  :  for  the  language  of  the  record  is 
tliat  of  past  time,  and  the  spirit  which  it  breathes  is  that 
of  penitence  for  past  misconduct.  An  apostate,  persist- 
ing in  his  apostasy,  could  not  possibly  have  been  its 
author.  It  must  have  been  written,  therefore,  after  his 
return  from  his  wanderings ;  and  the  delight  which  the 
conviction  of  this  inspires,  rests  on  grounds  that  are 
not  illusory. 

Verse  1st.  "  The  words  of  the  Preacher,  the  son  of 
David,  king  of  Jerusalem." 

EccLEsiASTEs,  IS  the  Greek  Title  of  the  Book  ;  the 
title  which  it  bears  in  the  Septuagint.  It  signifies  The 
Preacher.  The  Hebrew  word  for  which  it  is  used, 
means,  one  who  assembles,  or  gathers  the  people  toge- 
ther ;  and  the  translations  of  it  by  the  term  EccleslasteSi 
shows  that  the  Greek  Translators  understood  the  ob- 
ject of  the  assembling  to  be,  the  communication  of  pub- 
lic instruction. — That  Solomon,  in  the  early  part  of  his 
reign,  should  have  employed  in  this  way,  for  the  bene- 
fit of  his  people,  the  wisdom  with  which  he  had  been  so 
singularly  endowed,  is  highly  probable.  It  is  worthy  of 
his  piety  and  his  patriotism,  and  by  no  means  inconsis- 
tent, unless  on  false  ideas  of  honour,  with  his  regal  dig- 
nity.— When  he  himself  went  astray,  his  example  could 
not  fail  to  have  a  most  extensively  pernicious  influence 
in  "  causing  Israel  to  sin."  And  it  is  a  highly  pleasing 
reflection,  that  when  he  "  came  to  himself,"  he  should, 
with  a  similar  publicity,  have  acknowledged  the  folly 


ECCLES.  I.   1 11.  15 

and  the  evil  of  his  ways,  and  have  done  what  lay  in  his 
power,  by  an  open  avowal  of  his  "  repentance  towards 
God,"  to  counteract  the  fatal  tendency  of  the  course  he 
had  been  pursuing,  and  to  stem  the  tide  of  impiety  and 
profligacy,  the  floodgates  of  which  he  had  so  unhappily 
opened.  He  had  been  guilty  of  the  two  great  evils,  of 
"  forsaking  God  the  fountain  of  living  waters,"  and  of 
*•  hewing  out  unto  himself  cisterns,  broken  cisterns  that 
could  hold  no  water;"  and  now  he  declares  before  all 
men,  that  he  had  found  this  to  be  "  an  evil  thing  and 
a  bitter,"  and  with  a  decision  and  earnestness,  the  pro- 
duct of  woful  experience,  warns  all  against  the  misera- 
ble infatuation.  Nor  does  he  only  publish  his  penitence 
at  the  time ;  he  imparts  permanence  to  it  by  recording  it 
in  writing  for  the  admonition  of  succeeding  generations. 

His  character  as  a  preacher  is  drawn  in  the  twelfth 
chapter,  the  ninth  and  tenth  verses  : — "  Moreover,  be- 
cause the  Preacher  was  wise,  he  still  taught  the  people 
knowledge ;  yea,  he  gave  good  heed,  and  sought  out, 
(and)  set  in  order  many  proverbs.  The  Preacher  sought 
to  find  out  acceptable  words:  and  (that  which ||^as) 
written  (was)  upright,  (even)  words  of  truth." — Let  us, 
then,  attend  with  seriousness,  and  with  earnest  desire 
of  Divine  influence,  to  the  words  of  this  preacher,  as 
*'  words  of  uprightness  and  truth." 

He  was  the  "  son  of  David." — To  him  had  been  ad- 
dressed, by  his  pious  and  affectionate  parent,  the  solemn 
charge,  equally  melting  and  alarming :  "  And  thou,  So- 
lomon my  son,  know  thou  the  God  of  thy  father,  and 
serve  him  with  a  perfect  heart,  and  with  a  willing  mind ; 
for  the  Lord  searcheth  all  hearts,  and  understandeth  aii 
the  imaginations  of  the  thoughts  :  if  thou  seek  him,  he 
will  be  found  of  thee;  but  if  thou  forsake  him,  he  will 


46  LECTURE  I. 

cast  thee  off  for  ever."* — It  was  in  opposition  to  this 
paternal  counsel  that  he  had  gone  astray  ;  and  possibly, 
the  tender  recollection  of  it,  brought  home  to  the  heart 
by  the  events  of  providence,  might  be  part  of  the  means 
of  "  restoring  his  soul,  and  making  him  to  walk  again 
in  the  paths  of  righteousness."--"  I  was  my  father's 
son,"  says  he  elsewhere,!  bearing  testimony  to  the  af- 
fectionate fidelity  with  which  that  father  had  fulfilled 
the  paternal  trust, — "  I  was  my  father's  son,  tender  and 
only  beloved  in  the  sight  of  my  mother.  He  taught  me 
also,  and  said  unto  me.  Let  thy  heart  retain  my  words; 
keeps  my  commandments  and  live." — Frequently  has 
it  happened,  (and  the  consideration  of  it  should  encou- 
rage godly  parents  in  the  discharge  of  their  duty,)  that 
the  remembrance  of  early  instructions  has,  after  a 
course  of  departure  from  God,  been  the  means  of  awa- 
kening the  conscience,  alarming  the  fears,  and  touching 
the  sensibilities,  of  the  unhappy  wanderer,  and  turning 
his  feet  anew  to  "the  way  of  God's  testimonies." 

"  The  preacher"  was  also  "  king  of  Jerusalem."  It 
was.  the  God  of  Israel  who  had  chosen  and  exalted  him 
to  this  dignity :  but  he  had  been  guilty  of  forgetting  and 
ill-requiting  the  Author  of  his  greatness. — Possessed  of 
many  and  invaluable  spiritual  advantages  above  the 
kings  of  the  surrounding  nations,  he  had  yet  "  learned 
of  their  ways,''  honoured  and  served  their  gods,  and 
admitted  the  abominations  of  their  idolatry  into  alliance 
and  incorporation  with  the  worship  of  "  the  Holy  One 
of  Israel ;"  thus  violating  the  most  sacred  obligations  to 
preserve  that  worship,  by  example  and  authority,  free 
from  intermingling  corruptions  ;  and  leading  that  peo- 
ple astray  into  error  and  sin,  whom  it  was  his  official 
duty  to  encourage  and  to  conduct  in  the  ways  of  truth 

*  1  Cliron.  xxviii.  9".  t  Prov.  v>.  3,-4, 


ECCLES.  I.   1 11.  17 

and  righteousness.— As  *'king  of  Jerusalem,'' he  was 
also  placed  in  a  situation,  which  brought  within  his 
reach  "  whatsoever  his  soul  lusted  after,"  and  thus  en- 
abled him,  in  the  most  favourable  circumstances,  and 
on  the  most  extensive  scale,  (for  •'  what  can  the  man  do, 
that  cometh  after  the  king?")  to  try  his  infatuated  ex- 
periments on  human  happiness;— experiments,  of  which 
the  great  general  result  is  expressed,  with  comprehen- 
sive brevity,  and  deep-felt  emphasis,  in  the  second 
verse  :— 

"Vanity  of  vanities,  saith  the  PreacheEj 

VANITY   OF   vanities;   ALL    IS    VANITY." 

This  is  the  Text  of  the  Preacher's  Sermon;— -the 
leading  proposition,  which  it  is  his  object  to  illustrate 
and  to  establish,  in  the  whole  of  the  subsequent  part  of 
this  book  ;  of  which  he  never  loses  sight ;  which  meets 
us,  in  the  way  of  direct  allusion,  at  every  step  and  turn 
of  the  progress  of  his  argument ;  and  to  which,  when 
he  has  finished  his  details,  he  reverts,  in  the  very  same 
terms,  in  his  peroration.  * 

To  enter  into  any  detached  and  general  illustration  of 
this  verse,  would,  therefore,  be,  to  anticipate  the  con- 
tents of  the  Book. — The  following  remarks  may  be 
worthy  of  attention  : — 

In  the  first  plcLce :  It  is  to  be  considered  as  the  affect^ 
ing  result  of  Solomon's  own  experience.— He  had  en- 
tered into  the  spirit  of  the  universal  inquiry,  *'  who  will 
show  us  any  good  ?"t  and  had  made  trial  of  the  various 
sources  of  worldly  happiness.  He  had  repaired  in  per- 
son to  the  different  springs,  determined  to  take  nothing 
upon  the  reported  experience  of  others,  but  to  taste  the 
waters  for  himself.  He  had  drunk  freely  of  them  all : 
and   in  this  treatise,  he  describes  their  respective  pro- 

*  Clisp.  \\\.  8.  t  Psa^-  '^'-  6- 


18  LECTURE  I. 

perties  and  virtues. — The  Book  might,  therefore,  with 
sufficient  appropriateness,  be  entitled  ^*Tiie  Experi- 
ence OF  Solomon." 

Secondly.  We  are  not  to  understand  it  as  the  lan- 
guage of  a  mind  soured  and  fretted  by  disappointment ; 
the  verdict  of  a  morose  and  discontented  cynic,  the  in- 
cessant frustration  of  whose  hopes  and  desires  had  made 
him  renounce  the  world  in  disgust,  while  his  heart  was 
yet  unchanged,  and  continued  secretly  to  hanker  after 
the  same  enjoyments  ;  or  of  a  wasted  sensualist,  who, 
having  run  his  career  of  pleasure,  felt  himself  incapable 
of  any  longer  actually  enjoying  what  still,  however  en- 
grossed his  peevish  and  unavailing  wishes: — but  v/e 
are  to  regard  it  as  the  conclusion  come  to  by  one  who 
had  felt  the  bitterness  of  a  course  of  sin,  and  the  empti- 
ness of  this  world's  joys,  and,  having  been  reclaimed 
from  "  the  error  of  his  way,"  having  renounced  and 
wept  over  his  follies,  was  more  than  ever  satisfied  that 
"  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  wisdom,"  and  that  "  the  ways 
of  wisdom  are  the  only  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  her 
paths  alone  the  paths  of  peace." 

Thirdly.  Neither  must  we  conceive  him  to  affirm,  in 
these  words,  that  there  is  no  good  whatever,  no  kind  of 
enjoyment,  no  degree  of  happiness,  to  be  derived  from 
the  things  of  the  world,  when  they  are  kept  in  their 
own  place,  estimated  on  right  principles,  and  used  in  a 

proper  manner Sentiments  widely  different  from  any 

thing  so  ascetic  and  enthusiastic  as  this,  will  repeatedly 
come  in  our  way  in  the  course  of  the  Book — The 
words  before  us  are  to  be  interpreted  of  every  thing  in 
this  world  when  pursued  as  the  portion  of  him  who 
seeks  it, — when  considered  as  constituting  the  happiness 
of  a  rational,  immortal,  and  accountable  being.  His 
■verdict  is,  that  to  such  a  creature  they  can  yield,  by 


ECCLES.  I.    1—11.  19 

themselves,  no  genuine  and  worthy  satisfaction  ;  and 
that,  whilst  they  are,  in  their  own  nature,  unsatisfying, 
even  in  this  world,  they  are  worse,  infinitely  worse  than 
profitless,  for  the  world  to  come.  On  this  ground  it 
is,  that  he  pronounces  them  vanitt/.—he  had  weighed 
them  all  in  the  balances,  and  had  found  them  wanting. 

Fourthly.  The  peculiar  emphasis  may  be  remarked 
with  which  this  verdict  is  expressed. — He  does  not 
merely  say,  all  things  are  vain  :—h\\X.  "  all  is  vanity  ;"' 
—vanity  itself,  and  vanity  of  vanities ;  that  is,  the 
greatest  vanity, — sheer,  perfect  vanity — And  he  dou- 
bles the  emphatic  asseveration,  "  Vanity  of  vanities ; 
vanity  of  vanities ;  all  is  vanity." — This  shows,  first,  the 
strength  of  the  impression  on  his  own  m,ind.  It  is  not 
the  language  of  a  judgment  hesitating  between  two 
opinions,  or  of  a  heart  lingering  between  opposite  de- 
sires; but  of  a  mind  thoroughly  made  up,  of  a  heart 
loathing  itself  for  having  ever  for  a  moment  yielded  to 
a  different  sentiment,  of  decided  conviction,  of  powerful 
experimental  feeling.— It  shows,  secondly,  the  earnest- 
ness of  his  desire,  to  produce  a  similar  impression  on 
the  minds  of  others.  It  was  a  lesson  which  he  himself 
had  learned  by  the  bitterest  experience ;  and  he  is  anx- 
ious to  prevent  others  from  learning  it  in  the  same  way. 
He  wishes  them  to  take  his  word  for  it ;  not  to  venture 
after  him  in  a  repetition  of  the  sad  experiments  on 
which  his  conclusion  was  founded ;  but  to  enter  di- 
rectly on  another  course ;  to  seek  immediately  and 
earnestly  a  better  portion,— even  the  "  peace"  of  them 
that  *'  love  God's  law,"— the  ''  life"  that  lies  in  the 
"  Divine  favour,"— the  joys  and  the  hopes  of  true 
religion. 

That  is  justly  denominated  "  vanity,"  v^hich  yields  no 
substantial  profit.  It  is  in  this  connection  that  he  adds,  m 


21)  LECTURE  I. 

Verse  3d.  "  What  profit  hath  a  man  oi'  ail  his  labour 
which  he  taketh  under  the  sun  ?" 

By  "  labour"  he  means,  not  only  the  labour  of  the 
hands,  but  also  the  labour  of  the  brain  ;  for  of  both  we 
rihall  find  him  frequently  speaking  in  the  sequel. — 
"  What  profit  hath  a  man  of  all  his  labour  V  Much,  it 
may  be  answered  :  much  present  profit ;  great  and  ma- 
nifold benefits,  in  the  estimation  of  the  world,  may  be 
the  result  of  human  labour.  Learning,  riches,  power, 
honour,  and  all  the  means  of  sensual  and  intellectual 
gratification,  may  be  acquired  by  labour.  But  these 
things,  when  viewed  apart  from  God  as  the  chief  good, 
(the  light  in  which  we  observed  it  is  Solomon's  inten- 
tion to  place  them,)  are  all  comprehended  in  the  verdict 
already  pronounced,  "  V^anity  of  vanities ;  all  is  vani- 
ty."— The  gratification  which  these  things  impart  is 
mingled  with  many  disappointments,  disquietudes,  and 
mortifications.  The  pleasures  which  they  yield  have  a 
large  alloy  of  pains.  They  cannot,  by  themselves,  even 
when  enjoyed  lawfully,  constitute  the  happiness  of  such 
a  creature  as  man.  They  are  neither  commensurate  in 
their  duration  with  his  immortal  existence;  nor  are 
they  thoroughly  satisfying  even  while  they  last, — The 
chief  point  and  emphasis  of  the  question  will  be  felt,  if 
we  consider  a  man  as  having  completed  his  labour  un- 
der the  sun ;  having  arrived  at  the  close  of  his  toils. 
Suppose  him,  whatever  may  have  been  the  description 
and  the  sphere  of  his  diligence,  to  have  succeeded  to 
his  heart's  desire  ;  to  have  surmounted  every  difficulty, 
and  attained  every  object  of  his  pursuit : — the  question 
is,  ivhat  profit  remains  to  him  -when  he  has  done  ?  What 
has  he  then^  as  the  proceeds  of  his  industry  ?  And  alas  I 
the  question,  in  this  view,  admits  of  but  one  answer  :— 
•*  When  he  dieth,  he  shall  carry  nothing  away."*  This 

*  Psal.,  slut.  \7^ 


ECCLES.  I.   1 11.  St 

must  be  the  reply  as  to  the  man  of  ambition,  the  man 
cf  wealth,  the  man  of  rank,  the  man  of  pleasure.  Intellec- 
tual acquisitions  form  the  only  seeming  exception:  and 
the  exception  is  no  more  than  apparent.   Even  the  man 
of  learning,  the  philosopher,  the  wise  man  of  this  world, 
who  has  devoted  his  life  to  study,  and  has  gone  round, 
with  a  master's  step,  the  circle  of  the  sciences; — when 
he,  as  well  as  the  others,  is  viewed  as  having  terminated 
his  labours, — as  an  immortal  and  accountable  creature, 
closing  his  earthly  career,  and  appearing  before  God, 
unprepared  for  judgment  and  eternity,  unpardoned,  un- 
sanctified,  and  unfurnished  for  heaven ;— O  what  can 
we  say,  even  of  his  acquirements,  with  all  their  ad- 
mitted superiority  to  the  pleasures  of  sense,  and  to  the 
pursuits  of  povv'er  and  of  opulence,  but  "  Vanity  of  va 
nities;  vanity  of  vanities  ;  all  is  vanity?" — The  simple 
fact  stated  in  the  following  verse  confirms  the  general 
sentence  of  "  vanity"  pronounced  on  all  that  pertains  to 
time :    *'  One   generation  passeth  away,   and  another 
generation  cometh."    "  What  is  our  life  ?    It  is  a  va 
pour,  which  appeareth  for  a  little,  and  then  vanisheth 
away."     "Our  days  on  earth  (are)  as  a  shadow,  and 
(there  is)  no  abiding."— Turn  your  thoughts  to  the 
generation  that  is  already  gone  ;  whose  connection  with 
the  world  and  with  time  has  already  closed ;   whose 
bodies  fill  the  narrow  house,  and  whose  "  spirits  have 
returned  to  God  who  gave  them  :"-— what  profit  have 
they  now,  of  all  their  labour  which  they  took  under  the 
sun  ?    Oh !  with  what  a  bitter  emphasis  of  utterance 
would  those  who  lived  and  died  strangers  to  the  bless- 
ings of  religion  and  the  love  of  God ;  trying  to  do  with- 
out him  ;    seeking  their  happiness  in  the  creature ; 
"hewing  out  their  broken  cisterns;"  "  fulfilling  the 
desires  of  the  flesh  and  of  the  mind;"— with  what  a 


^25  LECTURE  I. 

bitter  emphasis  of  utterance,  could  their  voice  be  heard 
frofti  beyAid  tlie  impassable  gulph,  would  they  certify 
to  us  the  truth  of  the  verdict, — "  all  is  vanity  !" 

It  is  always  of  essential  consequence,  in  interpret- 
ing any  writer,  to  ascertain  his  general  design  in  the 
passage  under  review  ;  the  point  which  it  is  his  object 
to  establish  or  to  illustrate.  And  in  the  book  on  which 
we  are  now  entering,  we  shall  find  much  occasion  for 
the  application  of  this  remark. 

In  the  remainder  of  the  verses  which  I  have  read, 
that  is,  from  the  fourth  to  the  eleventh  inclusive,  there 
seems  to  be  one  general  idea  placed  in  various  points 
of  light.  It  is,  in  substance,  the  sentiment  expressed 
in  the  end  of  verse  9th,  that  "  (there  is)  no  new  (thing) 
under  the  sun."  It  is  the  idea  oi perpetual  change^  yet 
constant  sameness  ; — of  stable  and  unaltering  unifor- 
mity, in  the  midst  of  incessant  variety  and  fluctuation. 

This  appears  to  be  the  point,  or  hidden  sense,  of  the 
difierent  figures  contained  in  the  fourth,  fifth,  sixth, 
and  seventh  verses. 

Verse  4th.  "  (One)  generation  passeth  away,  and 
(another)  generation  cometh  ;  but  the  earth  abideth  for 
ever:" — more  tersely  in  the  original,  "Generation 
goeth,  and  generation  cometh  ;  but  the  earth  abideth 
for  ever." 

This  can  hardly  indeed  be  called  a  figure.  It  is 
rather  a  simple  statement  of  fact.  It  affords,  however, 
a  striking  illustration  of  the  general  sentiment. — The 
coming  and  going  of  successive  generations,  presents 
a  scene  of  endless  variety  ;  yet  it  is  itself  fixed  and  un- 
varying ; — the  unalterable  destiny  of  man.  There  is 
nothing  that  impresses  more  afifectingly  on  the  mind 
the  '^  vanity"  of  human  life,  than  the  perpetual  change 
of  tenants  that  is  taking  place  in  this  world  of  ours ; 


ECCLES.  I. 11.  £3 

—a  change  which  goes  on    without    interruption; — 
the  scene  presenting  the  same  general  aspects,  whilst 
the  actors  in  it  are  ever  shifting; — the  house  remain- 
ing the  same,  but  the  lodgers  continually  varying. — = 
*'  The  Earth  remainethyc>ret;fr  ;" — that  is,  throughout 
these  successive  generations  of  men  ; — presenting  to 
the   eye   the  same  appearances,   performing  the  same 
daily  and  yearly  revolutions,  exhibiting  the  same  alter- 
nations of  "  seed-time  and  harvest,  and  cold  and  heat, 
and   summer  and  winter,  and  day  and  night,"*  going 
on,   from  generation  to  generation,  in  its  old  original 
courses,    whilst  every  thirty  years  it  receives  a  race  of 
new  inhabitants  ; — and  that,  not  by  a  periodical  sweep- 
ing away,  and  a  periodical  creation,  but  on  the  princi- 
ple of  an  average,  calculated  from  numbers  at  every 
period  of  life,  at  every  individual  moment  perhaps  of 
*•  the  three-score  years  and  ten  ;" — by  which  arrange- 
ment, the  variety,  whilst  it  is  the  more  incessant,  is  yet, 
the  less  perceptible,  and  the  uniformity,  though  in  re- 
ality not  so  constant,  presents  still  more  of  the  appear- 
ance of  unchanging  sameness. — The  perpetual  stability 
of  the  earth  is  nothing,  alas  !   to  man.   Each  individual 
can  only  occupy  it  his  short  appointed  time,  and  must 
then  give  place  to  a  successor :  and  in  the   breasts  of 
the  "  men  of  the  world,  'who  have  their  portion  in  this 
life,"  the  truth  expressed  in  this  verse  can  engender  no 
feelings  but  those  of  indignant  fretfulncss  and  morti- 
fication.   The  permanence  of  the  earth  is  but  a  tanta- 
lizing assurance  to  the  man,   who  has  it   not  in  his 
power,  however  eagerly  he  may  desire  it,  to  continue 
on  it  as  a  permanent  resident.  Happy  they,  who  "  con- 
fess themselves  strangers  and  pilgrims  on  earth,  and 
desire  a  better   country,  even  a  heavenly :"   who  are 

*  Gen.  viii.  22, 


24      .  LECTURE  I. 

heirs  of  '"'  an  inheritance  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and 
that  fadeth  not  away." 

Verse  5th.  "  The  sun  also  ariseth,  and  the  sun 
goeth  down,  and  hasteth  to  his  place  whence  he  arose.'- 

The  Sun  ascends  in  the  morning  from  the  East ; 
runs  his  diurnal  course  across  the  heavens ;  sets,  and 
disappears  ;  comes  round  again  to  the  point  of  rising ; 
renews  the  day,  and  repeats  the  same  career :— light 
and  darkness  ever  alternating  ; — each  successive  day 
resembling  that  which  preceded  it : — perpetual  same- 
ness, yet  incessant  change. 

The  same  general  idea  is  still  presented,  under  other 
figures,  in  the  sixth  and  seventh  verses  : — "  The  wind 
goeth  toward  the  south,  and  turneth  about  unto  the 
north  ;  it  whirleth  about  continually ;  and  the  wind 
returneth  again  according  to  its  circuits,  "^fl  the  rivers 
run  into  the  sea ;  yet  the  sea  (is)  not  full :  unto  the 
place  from  whence  the  rivers  come,  thither  they  re- 
turn again." 

What  so  mutable  as  the  wind?  It  is  the  very  pro^ 
verb  of  fickleness,  and  instability ; — "  whirling  about 
continually." — Yet,  though  constantly  varying,  it  pre 
sents  no  new  appearances.  There  is  no  point  of  the 
compass  from  which  we  can  say  it  now  blows  for  the 
first  time.  Ten  thousand  times  has  it  blown,  and  in 
every  conceivable  degree  of  strength,  from  North. 
South,  East,  and  West,  and  all  the  intermediate  points. 
• — Thus,  whilst  it  is  ever  varying,  it  is  always  the  same. 
There  is  nothing  new  in  its  incessant  and  capriciou;^ 
shiftings :  ^'  it  returneth  again  according  to  its  cir- 
cuits." 

"  All  the  rivers  run  into  the  sea  ;  yet  the  sea  (Is) 
not  full  :" — it  does  not  overflow,  swelling  above  its 
everlasting  boundaries^  notwithstanding  this  constant 


ECCLES.  I.    1—11.  S5 

and  copious  influx  of  waters.  The  sea  gives  back  its 
waters  to  the  earth.  By  one  of  Nature's  beautiful  pro- 
visions, it  is  continually,  by  means  of  the  solar  influ- 
ence, sending  up  insensibly  into  the  atmosphere,  sup- 
plies of  vapoury  moisture,  which  descend  again  in  si- 
lent dews,  or,  condensing  into  clouds,  come  down  in 
rains  and  snows,  watering  the  ground,  that  would 
otherwise  become  arid  and  unproductive,  and  feeding 
the  springs,  and  streams,  and  rivers,  which  return  again 
to  the  sea,  from  which  they  were  derived. — Thus 
there  is  here  too  perpetual  change,  yet  perpetual  uni- 
formity ; — the  same  regular  rotation  of  mutual  supply ; 
— the  rivers  maintained  from  the  sea,  and  the  sea  kept 
full  by  the  rivers. — In  this  figure  too,  it  might  perhaps 
be  Solomon's  intention  to  insinuate  an  additional 
thought ;  namely,  the  unsatisfactory  nature  of  the 
sources  of  worldly  happiness  : — "  the  sea  (is)  not  full." 
At  any  rate,  this  is  the  thought  of  the  following  verse, 
where  it  is  strongly  and  beautifully  brought  out : — 

Verse  8th.  *'  All  things  (are)  full  of  labour ;  man 
cannot  utter  (it) :  the  eye  is  not  satisfied  with  seeing, 
neither  is  the  ear  filled  with  hearing." 

Wherever  you  turn  your  eyes,  in  the  society  espe;. 
cially  of  civilized  men,  '^  all  is  full  of  labour."  The 
departments  and  the  modes  of  human  exertion, — all 
for  the  attainment  of  some  real  or  fancied  good, — are 
endless  in  number,  and  inconceivably  diversified.  Yety 
amidst  them  all,  and  amidst  all  their  productions  and 
results,  "  the  eye  is  not  satisfied  with  seeing,  nor  the 
ear  filled  with  hearing."—"  The  sea  is  not  full. "—Still 
there  is  something  or  other  awanting  ;  and  this  is  made 
apparent  by  '*  all  things  continuing  full  of  labour;"— 
without  cessation,  without  conclusion  : — men  toiling 
after  the  attainment  of  something  that  is  to  make  them 
D 


;^6  liECTUllE  I. 

happy,  and,  when  they  have  succeeded,  toiling  stilL 
They  seek  ;  they  find :— yet  still  they  want,  and  still 
they  labour :— still 

"  With  thirst  insatiate  crave  for  more." 

The  eye  and  the  ear,  as  being  the  chief  senses,  are  here 
put  for  all  the  desires  of  man,  and  all  the  organs  by 
which  they  are  respectively  gratified.  The  general  truth 
expressed  is,  that  men,  with  all  their  endless  labours 
after  happiness,  are  still  unsatisfied  :--a  truth,  alas  ! 
not  peculiar  to  the  country  or  the  age  of  Solomon,  but 
confirmed  by  the  experience  of  every  place,  and  of 
every  generation. 

The  uniformity  of  appearances  and  events,  amidst 
the  constant  succession  of  mankind,  is  expressed  in 
very  bold  and  vivid  terms  in  the  following  verses  : 

9—11.  "  The  thing  which  hath  been,  it  (is  that) 
which  shall  be;  and  that  which  is  done,  (is)  that  which 
shall  be  done  :  and  (there  is)  no  new  (thing)  under  the 
sun.  Is  there  (any)  thing  whereof  it  may  be  said,  See, 
this  (is)  new  ?  it  hath  been  already  of  old  time  that  was 
before  us.  (There  is)  no  remembrance  of  former 
(things) :  neither  shall  there  be  (any)  remembrance  of 
things  to  come  with  (those)  that  shall  be  after." 

It  is  very  obvious,  that  this  language  must  be  inter- 
preted generally.  It  cannot  be  understood  as  affirming, 
without  qualification  or  exception,  that  amongst  all  the 
endlessly  diversified  modifications  of  things,  and  of 
events,-r.all  the  discoveries  and  inventions  of  science 
and  of  art,  and  all  the  changes  in  the  history  of  human 
life,  there  is  absolutely  nothing  new  ;_nothing  that 
hath  not  been  already  of  old  time.  But  there  is  a  vast 
deal  of  what  passes  for  new,  that  is  really  old.  Every 
man  must  be  sensible,  that  even  his  own  extending  m^ 


ECCLES.  I.   1 11,  S7 

formation  has  very  often,  in  this  respect,  corrected  his 
earlier  views  ;  and  that  many  things  which,  in  his  igno- 
rance, he  had  fancied  to  be  new,  his  growing  acquaint^ 
ance  with  the  knowledge  of  former  times  has  shown, 
him  to  possess  claims  even  to  high  antiquity.  Now 
that  which  takes  place  in  the  experience  of  individuals, 
may  also  hold  true  with  regard  to  the  successive  gene- 
rations of  mankind.  Our  ignorance  of  former  times  is, 
accordingly,  appealed  to,  in 

Verse  11th.  *^  There  is  no  remembrance  of  former 
things ;  neither  shall  there  be  any  remembrance  of 
things  that  are  to  come  with  those  that  shall  be  after." 
—How  extremely  limited  and  uncertain  is  our  acquaint- 
ance with  the  ages  of  the  world  preceding  our  own  ! — 
The  constitution  and  phenomena  of  nature  have  been 
all  along  the  same ;  the  powers  and  passions  of  men, 
and  the  genera,  and  species,  and  varieties  of  charac- 
ter, arising  from  their  diversified  combinations,  have 
been  much  the  same  ;  their  wants  and  desires,  together 
with  the  means  existing  in  air,  earth,  and  sea,  for  their 
supply  and  gratification,  have  been  the  same  :— and  it 
seems  natural  to  expect,  that  similar  circumstances 
should  give  birth  to  similar  results.— There  are,  ac- 
cordingly, many  remarkable  vestiges,  not  of  the  exis- 
tence  merely,  but  of  the  high  cultivation,  of  various 
arts  and  sciences,  which  at  first  view  might  appear 
modern,  in  nations  and  periods  of  remote  antiquity;  so 
that,  in  such  cases,  the  men  of  recent  days  have  only 
the  credit  of  reviving  what  had  been  forgotten.  And 
so  strong,  indeed,  on  some  minds,  is  the  impression 
produced,  by  ancient  remains,  in  favour  of  ancient 
times,  that  they  have  looked  upon  the  present  race  as 
mere  children  and  pigmies  in  knowledge  and  in  the 
power  of  applying  it  to  practical  use,   compared  with 


38  LECTURE  I. 

their  brethren  of  an  earlier  age.  There  is  nothmg,  of 
wliich,  in  these  circumstances,  we  can,  with  certainty^ 
affirm,  "  This  is  new."  It  is  probable,  that  Solomon's 
acquaintance  with  science  might  appear  to  many  of  his 
contemporaries  to  include  in  it  much  that  was  novel 
and  original ;  whilst  his  own  superior  knowledge  of 
the  acquirements  of  different  nations  and  of  preceding 
times  might  enable  him  to  ascertain  the  contrary. 

There  are,  in  particular  (for  this  is  the  main  subject 
of  the  book)  no  new  sources  of  worldly  happiness. 
"Who  will  show  us  any  good?"  has  been  the  eager 
enquiry  of  the  men  of  this  world  from  the  beginning  !— 
and  through  successive  ages,  the  answers  to  the  en- 
quiry, although  modified  by  circumstances  in  ten 
thousand  different  ways,  have,  in  the  leading  princi- 
ples of  them,  be^n  the  same.  The  multitude  of  man- 
kind have  all  along  been  "  forsaking  the  fountain  of 
living  waters  ;"  and  the  "cisterns,"  which  they  have 
'*  hewed  out  for  themselves,"  have  been  very  much  of 
the  same  descriptions  ;  diversified,  it  may  be,  in  their 
exterior  forms  and  decorations,  bearing  the  distinctive 
shapes  and  symbols  of  their  respective  ages  and  coun- 
tries;  but  all,  without  exception,  alike  the  modern 
and  the  antique,  *'  broken  cisterns,  that  can  hold  no 
water." 

These  verses  present  before  us,  in  the  first  place,  a 
most  impressive  and  satisfactory  testimony  in  favour 
of  true  religion,  as  the  only  source  of  real  and  perma- 
nent happiness. — They  are  best  qualified  to  pronounce 
on  the  vanity  and  emptiness  of  the  world,  who  have 
themselves  tried  it  in  all  its  forms  and  modes  of  enjoy- 
ment. Solomon  made  the  experiment,  and'hc  "  found 
it  wantihg."  When,  through  Divine  mercy,  he  "  came 
to  himself,"  he  renounced  the  world,  as  "  vanity  and  a 


ECCLES.  I.   1 11.  S9 

thing  of  nought."  With  penitential  shame  and  sorrow, 
he  returned  to  God,  from  whom  he  had  so  miserably 
revolted,— even  to  "  the  fountain  of  living  waters,"— 
and  found  in  Him  an  all- satisfying  portion ,  peace  and 
rest,  and  "  fulness  of  joy,"— and,  in  '*  the  keeping  of 
his  commandments,  a  great  reward"— And  such  has 
been  the  experience,  the  feelingly  recorded  experience, 
of  many  a  one  besides  the  Royal  preacher.  The  in- 
sufficiency  and  vanity,  indeed,  of  earthly  things,  as  the 
portion  of  an  intellectual,  moral,  and  immortal  being, 
ought  to  be  held  as  a  self-evident  truth,  unsusceptible 
of  controversy,  and  requiring  no  proof.— Yet,  alas ! 
what  cause  have  we  to  remark 

In  the  second  place,  What  an  affecting'  evidence  it 
is,  of  the  infatuation  and  depravity  of  mankind,  that 
neither  the  plainness  of  the  truth,  nor  the  uniformity 
of  the  experience  of  successive  generations,  produces 
any  alteration  whatever  on  their  general  conduct — 
Men  who  have  made  trial  of  the  world,  and  have  after- 
wards turned  from  it  unto  God,  have  attested,  from 
their  personal  experience,  its  universal  vanity,  and  at 
the  same  time,  the  substantial  and  satisfactory  excel- 
lence of  the  blessings  they  have  chosen  in  its  stead ; — 
and  many  a  time  from  others  have  the  fearful  soiem- 
nities  of  a  death-bed,  and  a  near  view  of  eternity,  drawn 
forth  the  reluctant  confession  of  the  same  truth  ;  a 
truth  unheeded  in  the  midst  of  life,  and  business,  and 
prosperity,  but  brought  home  to  the  mind  v/ith  dre%cL 
ful  certainty,  when  death  has  placed  the  sinner  on  the 
verge  of  the  world  to  come.  Yet,  in  despite  of  all  this, 
men  continue  to  pursue  the  same  course.  Thev  per- 
sist  in  following  the  world  with  all  avidity,  under  one 
or  other  of  its  various  forms  of  falsely-promis'ed  enjoy- 
ment ;  just  as  if  no  testimony  of  its  vanity  existed,  in 


c?U  LECTURE  I, 

llie  experience  of  others,  in  the  concurring  verdict  of 
their  own  consciences,  in  the  word,  or  in  the  provi- 
dence, of  God. — '^  They  that  trust  in  their  wealth, 
and  boast  themselves  of  the  multitude  of  their  riches  ; 
none  (of  them)  can  by  any  means  redeem  his  brother, 
or  pay  to  God  a  ransom  for  him  ;  (for  the  redemption 
of  their  soul  (is)  precious,  and  it  ceaseth  for  ever)  that 
lie  should  still  live  for  ever,  (and)  not  see  corruption. 
For  he  seeth  (that)  wise  men  die,  likewise  the  fool  and 
the  brutish  person  perish,  and  leave  their  wealth  to 
others.  Their  inward  thought  (is,  that)  their  houses 
(shall  continue)  for  ever,  (and)  their  dwelling-places  to 
ail  generations  :  they  call  (their)  lands  after  their  own 
names.  Nevertheless,  man,  (being)  in  honour,  abideth 
not;  he  is  like  the  beasts  (that)  perish.    This  their 

WAY     (is)     their    folly  :     YET     THEIR      POSTERITY 

APPROVE  THEIR  SAYINGS."* — "  O  that  mcu  wcrc 
vvise  ;  (that)  they  understood  these  things  ;  that  they 
would  consider  their  latter  end  !" — Remember,  ye  in- 
fatuated votaries  of  the  world,  the  solemn  hour  is  fast 
approaching,  when  you  must  have  done  with  time,  and 
all  its  passing  concerns.  That  hour  will  infallibly 
awaken  you,  if  you  are  not  happily  awakened  earlier, 
to  an  appalling  conviction  of  the  truth  which  has  now, 
and  so  often,  been  urged  upon  your  timely  considera- 
tion. The  special  hand  of  Death  will  then  write,  in 
dark  but  too  legible  characters,  on  every  thing  from^ 
which  you  have  been  seeking  your  happiness,  '*  Vanity 
'of  vanities;  vanity  of  vanities;  all  is  vanity." — 
O  then,  be  wise  in  time.  You  are  in  quest  of  what 
never  has  been  and  never  can  be  found  from  the 
sources  to  which  you  are  repairing  for  it.  The  search 
for  happiness  amongst  **  the  things  of  this  world,"  has 

*  Tsal.  xlix.  6—13. 


ECCLES.  I.   1 11.  31 

been,  shall  be,  must  be,  a  fruitless  labour.  It  is  the 
toil 

"  Of  dropping  buckets  into  empty  wells, 
"  And  growing  old  in  drawing  nothing  up." 

To  you  is  the  divine  invitation  addressed,  and  to  all 
who  are  feeling  the  thirst  of  nature  for  satisfactory  en- 
joyment : — *^  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to 
the  waters  ;  and  he  that  hath  no  money  :  come  ye, 
buy  and  eat ;  yea  come,  buy  wine  and  milk,  without 
money  and  without  price.  Wherefore  do  ye  spend 
money  for  (that  which)  is  not  bread  ?  and  your  labour 
for  (that  which)  satisfieth  not  ?  Hearken  diligently  unto 
me,  and  eat  ye  (that  which)  is  good,  and  let  your  soul 
delight  itself  in  fatness-  Incline  your  ear,  and  come  unto 
me  :  hear,  and  your  soul  shall  live."* — This  expostu- 
lation, addressed  to  you  by  the  God  of  heaven,  in  infi- 
nite condescension  and  kindness,  is  recommended  to 
your  attention  and  obedience  by  the  impressive  appeal 
of  the  Saviour  of  sinful  men  : — "  For,  what  is  a  man 
profited,  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose 
his  own  soul  ?  or  what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange 
for  his  soul  ?  For  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  the 
glory  of  his  Father,  with  his  angels  ;  and  then  shall  he 
reward  every  man  according  to  his  works,  "f—**  What 
profit"  shall  a  man  then  have,  "  of  all  his  labour  which 
he  hath  taken  under  the  sun  ?"_The  favour  of  God  ; — 
the  love  of  Christ  ;_the  blessing  of  Heaven,  mingling 
with  all  the  good  and  evil  of  life,  enhancing  the  one, 
and  sweetening  and  sanctifying  the  other ;  the  "  ex- 
ceeding great  and  precious  promises,"  "  of  the  life 
that  now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come," — the  faith 
of  which  inspires  "  the  peace  which  passeth  all  under- 
standing ;"— the  spiritual  joy  of  "  fellowship  with  th^ 

=*  Isaiah  Iv,  1-^3.  f  Matt.  xvi.  26,  ?r 


S2  LECTURE  I.     ECCLES.  I.   1. 11. 

Father,  and  with  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,"  and  with  the 
children  of  God,  the  excellent  of  the  earth ;— and  the 
blessed  hope  of  eternal  life, — of  glory  and  honour,  and 
immortalit}^ ; — these  are  sources  of  felicity,  worthy  of 
your  rational  and  immortal  natures,— pure  and  dignified, 
substantial  and  everlasting. — Believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ ;  come  to  God  in  his  name  ;  accept  the  mercy 
offered,  through  his  mediation,  in  the  gospel ;  and  all 
these  blessings,  in  time  and  eternity,  shall  be  yours. 
"  O  taste  and  see  that  the  Lord  is  good!"—"  Doth 
not  Wisdom  cry  ?  and  Understanding  put  forth  her 
voice  ?  She  standeth  in  the  top  of  high  places,  by  the 
way,  in  the  places  of  the  paths  ;  she  crieth  at  the  gates, 
at  the  entry  of  the  city,  at  the  coming  in  at  the  doors : 
unto  you,  O  men,  I  call,  and  my  voice  is  to  the  sons 
of  men.  O  ye  simple,  understand  wisdom  ;  and  ye 
fools,  be  ye  of  an  understanding  heart.  Heaf  ;  for  I 
will  speak  of  excellent  things,  and  the  opening  of  my 
lips  (shall  be)  right  things. — Receive  my  instruction, 
and  not  silver,  and  knowledge  rather  than  choice  gold. 
— I  love  them  that  love  me  ;  and  they  that  seek  me 
early  shall  find  we.  Riches  and  honour  (are)  with  me ; 
(yea)  durable  riches  and  righteousness.  My  fruit  (is) 
better  than  gold,  yea,  than  fine  gold  ;  and  my  revenue 
than  choice  silver.  I  lead  in  the  way  of  righteousness, 
in  the  midst  of  the  paths  of  judgment :  that  I  may 
cause  them  that  love  me  to  inherit  substance :  and 
I  will  fill  their  treasures."* 

*  Prov.  viii.  1—6,  10,  17—2!. 


LFXTURE  II. 


EcCLES.  I.  Ig — 18. 

12, 13  "  I  the  Preacher  was  King  over  Israel  in  Jerusalem';  And  I  gave 
mij  heart  to  seek  and  search  out  by  ivisdom  concerning  all  (things) 
that  are  done  under  heaven :  this  sore  travail  hath  God  given  to  the 

14  sons  of  man,  to  be  exercised  therenvith.  I  have  seen  all  the  nvorks 
that  are  done  under  the  sun;  and  behold,  all  (is  J  vanity  andvexa- 

15  tion  of  spirit.   fThat  which  is  J  crooked  cannot  be  made  straight ; 

16  and  that  which  is  wanting  cannot  be  numbered.  I  communed  with- 
mine  own  heart,  saying  Lo,  lam  come  to  great  estate,  and  have 
gotten  more  wisdom  than  all  (they J  that  have  been  before  me  in 
Jerusalem;  yea,  my  heart  had  great  experience  of  wisdom,  and 

17  knowledge.  And  I  gave  my  heart  to  know  wisdom,  and  to  knots) 
madness  and  folly  :  I  perceived  that  this  also  is  vexation  of  spirit. 

18  For  in  much  wisdom  (is J  much  grief;  and  he  that  increaseth 
knowledge  increaseth  sorrow.''' 


iN  pursuing  his  inquiries  and  experiments,  for  ascer- 
taining  the  chief  good,  the  writer  of  this  Book  pos- 
sessed, as  was  formerly  noticed,  peculiar  advantages ; 
the  situation  which  he  occupied  affording  him  the  full- 
est opportunities  of  investigating  and  bringing  to  the 
test  ail  the  various  sources  of  worldly  enjoyment. 

When  we  are  about  to  follow  him  in  the  detail  of 
his  experience,  we  should  keep  the  recollection  steadily 
before  us,  that  he  is  speaking  of  that  period  of  his  life 
which  he  denominates  "  the  days  of  his  vanity;" — 
when  he  had  forsaken  God,  and  instead  of  saying,  with 
his  godly  father,  *'  Lord,  lift  thou  up  the  light  of  thy 
countenance  upon  us!" — joined  in  the  common  cry  of 
the  world,  "  Who  will  shew  us  any  good  ?" 

From  the  twelfth  to  the  fifteenth  verse,  inclusive, 
appears  to  be  of  a  general  nature,  expressing,  in  terms 
E 


34  t,ECTUiiE  ir. 

of  unrestricted  import,  the  object  of  his  inquiry,  the 
extensive  field  of  his  observation,  and  the  impression 
left  upon  his  mind  as  the  result  of  his  survey  ;  in  which 
he  had  availed  himself  to  the  full  of  all  the  facilities  and 
means  of  discovery,  which  were  furnished  by  his  royal 
authority  and  resources,  as  *'  king  over  Israel  m  Je- 
rusalem." 

"  I  gave  my  heart," — that  is,  I  applied  myself  with 
zeal  and  diligence, — ''  to  seek  and  search  out  by  wis- 
dom,"—in  the  close  and  prudent  and  vigorous  exercise 
of  his  mental  powers,—"  concerning  all  (things)  that 
are  done  under  the  sun." — This  is  generally  under- 
stood of  his  scientific  researches  into  the  works  of 
nature  and  of  art.  I  should  rather  interpret  it  of  his 
inquiry  into  all  the  endless  variety  of  human  occupa- 
tions and  pursuits  ;  because  such  seems  to  be  the  mean- 
ing appropriated  in  this  Book  ro  the  phrase,  "  all  things 
that  are  done  under  the  heaven,"  or  "  under  the  sun." 
He  applied  himself  to  the  examination  of  the  sciences 
and  arts,  the  professions  and  labours,  which  occupy 
the  time,  the  industry,  and  the  investigations  of  man- 
kind. 

The  words  in  the  end  of  verse  13th.  "  This  sore  tra- 
vail hath  God  given  to  the  sons  of  men,  to  be  exer- 
cised therewith," — are  usually  considered  as  expressive 
of  the  irksomeness,  and  difiiculty,  attending  the  acqui- 
sition of  that  knowledge  of  which  Solomon  is  conceived 
to  speak ;— God  having  so  ordered  it,  that  unusually 
extensive  acquirements  must  be  the  result  of  severe 
application  to  study,  accompanied,  in  its  course  of  dis- 
covery, with  many  obstacles  and  perplexities,  much 
disappointment  and  mortification,  and  a  great  variety 
of  painful  and  harrassing  feelings. — I  am  disposed, 
however,  to  understand  the  words,  as  simply  explana- 


ECCLES.  I.  12 18.  Sri 

tory,  or  exegetical,  of  what  immediately  precedes  :  "  I 
gave  my  heart  to  seek  and  search  out  by  wisdom,  con- 
cerning all  things  that  are  done  under  heaven  ;  (even) 
that  sore  travail  (which)  God  hath  given  to  the  sons  of 
men,  to  be  exercised  therewith." — That  which  is 
'*  given  to  the  sons  of  men,  to  be  exercised  therewith." 
must  surely  be  something  more  general  than  the  in- 
vestigation to  which  Solomon  had  applied  his  heart ; 
for  which  there  were  then,  and  still  are,  very  few  who 
have  either  the  ability  or  the  leisure.— There  is  proba- 
bly, in  the  words,  a  reference  to  what  he  had  said  a 
litde  before,  "  All  things  (are)  full  of  labour  :" — and 
the  true  origin  of  this,  as  the  appointed  condition  of 
humanity,  is  to  be  found  in  the  remote  but  divinely 
authenticated  records  of  the  entrance  of  sin  into  the 
world: — *'  Unto  Adam  He  said,  Because  thou  hast 
hearkened  unto  the  voice  of  thy  wife,  and  hast  eaten 
of  the  tree  of  which  I  commanded  thee,  saying,  Thou 
shalt  not  eat  of  it ; — cursed  (is)  the  ground  for  thy  sake ; 
in  sorrow  shalt  thou  eat  (of)  it  all  the  days  of  thy  life  : 
thorns  also  and  thistles  shall  it  bring  forth  to  thee  ;  and 
thou  shalt  eat  the  herb  of  the  field  :— in  the  sweat  of 
thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread,  till  thou  return  unto  the 
ground  ;  for  out  of  it  wast  thou  taken  :  for  dust  thou 
(art,)  and  unto  dust  shalt  thou  return."* 

This  view  of  the  meaning  of  the  words  is  confirmed 
by  the  parallel  expression  in  chap.  iii.  10.  where  the 
connection  leaves  no  ambiguity ;  "  I  have  seen  the 
travail  which  God  hath  given  to  the  sons  of  men,  to  be 
exercised  therewith  ;" — and  it  agrees  well  with  what 
immediately  follows  here,  in 

Verse  14.  "  I  have  seen  all  the  works  that  are  done 
under  the  sun  ;  and  behold,  all  {is)  vanity,  and  vexa- 
tion of  spirit." 

*  Gsn.  iii,  17—19. 


36  LECTURE  11. 

Solomon  had  seen  all  the  labours  of  men  in  quest  of 
happiness ;  and  he  had  already,  in  the  opening  of  his 
treatise,  pronounced  all  to  be  "  vanity,"  yea,  "  vanity 
of  vanities."  To  this  he  here  adds,  *'  vexation  of  spirit." 

Some,  indeed,  from  a  different  etymology  of  the 
original  word  for  vexation,  translate  this  phrase,  *^  feed- 
ing on  wind  ;"— and  the  sense  thus  given  is  good,  and 
appropriate.  But  when  we  say,  "  all  is  vanity,  and  feed- 
ing on  wind,"  we  have  only  one  idea  presented  to  the 
mind,  namely,  that  of  unsatisfactory  emptiness.  ^'  Feed- 
ing on  wind,"  being  a  strong  figure,  makes  an  addi- 
tion to  the  force  or  emphasis  of  the  preceding  expres- 
sion, but  no  addition,  or  very  little  at  least,  to  its  mean- 
ing. Our  translation,  on  the  contrary,  whilst  it  is 
founded  on  a  preferable  etymology,  affords,  at  the  same 
time,  an  additional  idea,  and  is,  besides,  evidently  more 
consistent  with  the  different  connections  in  which  the 
phrase  .occurs  in  this  Book.  Thus,  for  instance,  in  the 
17th  and  18th  verses  of  this  chapter  :  '^'  I  gave  my 
heart  to  know  wisdom,  and  to  know  madness*  and 
folly ;  I  perceived  that  this  also  is  vexation  of  spirit : 
for  in  much  wisdom  (is)  much  grief;  and  he  that  in- 
creaseth  knowledge  increaseth  sorrow :" — and  in  chap. 
ii.  17.  ^'  therefore  I  hated  life  ;  because  the  work  that 
is  wrought  under  the  sun  (is)  grievous  to  me  ;  for  all 
(is)  vanity,  and  vexation  of  spirit;"  and  verse  22. 
*'  For  what  hath  man  of  all  his  labour,  and  of  the 
vexation  of  his  heart,"  (a  word  in  the  original  of  the 
same  derivation,)  '*  wherein  he  hath  laboured  under  the 
sun?" 

The  labours  of  which  Solomon  here  speaks  must  be 
viewed  apart  from  religion.  Religion  opens  such  sources 
of  peace  and  joy,  as  serve  to  compose,  and  soothe,  and 
satisfy  the  spirit,  amidst  all  the  cares,  and  crosses,  and 


ECCLES.  I.   i2 — 18.  37 

disappointments  of  life.  But  apart  from  its  supporting 
and  cheering  influence,  the  toils  of  men  in  pursuit  of 
happiness,  their  eager  efforts  towards  a  practical  answer 
to  the  question,  "  Who  will  shou'  us  any  good  ?"  are 
assuredly  vexation,  as  well  as  vanity  ;  hurrassing  the 
mind  with  corroding  anxieties  ;  fretting  and  souring  it 
by  repeating  disappointments  ;  elevating  it  at  times  to 
precarious  joy, — precarious,  and  therefore  unsatisiac- 
tory;  andmorefrequently  overclouding  it  withdejcction 
and  gloom. 

One  great  cause  why  all  is  pronounced  vexation  as 
well  as  vanity,  is  stated  in  verse  15.  "  (That  which  is) 
crooked  cannot  be  made  straight,  and  that  which  is 
wanting  cannot  be  numbered." 

I  shall  not  trouble  you  with  the  different  interpreta 
tions  which  have  been  given  of  these  words,  but  sim- 
ply lay  before  you   what  seems  to  myself,  from    its 
agreement  with  the  connection,  and  with  the  scope  of 
the  passage,  to  be  their  true  meaning. 

"  (That  which  is)  crooked  cannot  be  made  straight." 
— We  have  a  key  to  the  import  of  this  expression,  in 
chap.  vii.  13.  '^  Consider  the  work  of  God  ;  for  who 
can  make  (that)  straight  which  he  hath  made  crooked?" 
This  cannot  refer  to  the  natural  perverseness  of  man- 
kind, to  the  crookedness  of  their  dispositions,  their  want 
of  original  rectitude  :  because  it  cannot  with  truth  be 
said,  that  God  hath  made  our  nature  crooked  or  per^ 
verse.  On  the  contrary,  in  the  close  of  the  same  chap 
ter  it  is  affirmed,  ^'  God  made  man  upright ;  but  they 
have  sought  out  many  inventions."  So  neither,  in  the 
Vv'ords  before  us,  is  there  any  reference  to  the  nature  of 
man ;  but  to  the  dispensations  and  arrangements  of 
Divine  Providence.  It  is  as  if  the  wise  man  had  said  : 
'^*'  There  is  generally;  in  the  lot  of  everv  man.  some. 


88  i^ECTURE  II. 

thing  crooked ;— something  or  other  not  to  his  mind ; 
which  he  wishes,  and  tries,  and  labours,  to  make 
straight, — to  bend  to  his  liking.  But  providence  or- 
ders it  otherwise.  His  attempts  are  all  counteracted 
and  frustrated.  It  is  be)  ond  his  power,  with  all  the 
pains  he  can  bestow,  to  correct  the  evil.  And  by  this 
one  circumstance,  the  spirit  of  the  man  who  seeks  his 
happiness  in  the  things  of  time,  and  is  destitute  of  the 
satisfying  portion  of  God's  children,  is  galled  and  irri- 
tated. So  that,  although  every  thing  else  is  as  he  would 
have  it,-— all  straight  and  to  his  mind ;— yet,  whilst  this 
one  thing  is  crooked,  he  is  dissatisfied  and  unhappy.. 
Indeed,  the  more  entirely  every  thing  else  is  right, 
the  more  bitterly  is  his  pride  mortified,  and  his  spirit 
provoked,  that  this  should  continue  wrong,  and  baffle 
his  endeavours  to  change  and  to  rectify  it.  He  kicks 
against  the  appointment  of  heaven,  and  *'  disquiets 
himself  in  vain." 

Haman  went  out  from  the  Royal  presence,  ^'  joyful 
and  with  a  glad  heart,"  elated  by  the  honours  bestowed 
upon  him.  But  the  special  favour  of  majesty,  "  the 
glory  of  his  riches,  the  multitude  of  his  children,  and 
his  advancement  above  the  princes  and  servants  of  the 
king," — the  enjoyment  of  the  present,  and  the  antici- 
pation of  the  future ; — all  '^  availed  him  nothing,  so 
long  as  he  saw  Mordecai  the  Jew  sitting  in  the  king's 
gate."*  Nor  are  such  cases  by  any  means  of  rare  oc- 
currence. Numberless  are  the  instances  of  this  kind 
of  unreasonable  dissatisfaction ;  arising  from  something 
crooked  which  cannot  be  made  straight ;  from  some 
"  dead  fly"  that  mars  the  fragrance  of  the  ointment : — 
so  that  the  name  of  Mordecai  has  become  a  kind  of 
proverbial  designation  for  all  those  little  circumstances, 

*  Esther  V,  9-»13. 


ECCLES.  I.  12 — 18.  39 

which,  existing  singly  in  the  lot  of  individuals,  and 
preying  on  their  disappointed  spirits,  serve  to  take  the 
relish  out  of  abounding  sweets  ;— and  it  has  become 
the  familiar  saying  of  common  life,  that  everi/  mari  has 
his  Mordecai. 

*■'  And  that  which  is  wanting  cannot  be  numbered." 
— This  is  generally  understood,  I  believe,  as  meaning, 
that  the  wants  which  men  experience  in  their  pursuit 
of  happiness,— the  felt  deficiencies,  discovered  in  every 
step  of  their  progress,  are  so  many,  and  so  diversified, 
that  they  cannot  be  reckoned  up. — I  rather  think  that 
the  words  contain  a  repetition,  in  different  terms,  of 
the  same  idea  that  is  expressed  in  the  former  part  of 
the  verse. — A  man  of  the  world  is  here  set  before  us, 
casting  up  his  accounts ;— taking  an  inventory  of  the 
various  items  that  make  up  the  aggregate  of  his  enjoy- 
ment. The  sum  of  them,  it  may  be,  is  very  large. 
But  there  is  some  particular  article,  on  which  he  has 
set  his  heart,  and  which  he  would  fain  have  it  in  his 
power  to  put  into  his  list*  But  his  wishes  are  vain.  It 
is  not  in  his  possession  ;— it  is  not  within  his  reach.  It 
is  *'  wanting,"  and  therefore  '^  cannot  be  numbered." 
Yet  without  it,  the  account  is  deficient ;  and  the  de- 
ficiency  gives  him  more  uneasiness  and  dissatisfaction, 
than  the  entire  sum  of  his  blessings  gives  him  enjoy- 
ment. It  mixes  all  with  discontent,  and  thus  poisons 
the  whole ;  so  that  all  his  labour  becomes  not  only 
"  vanity,"  but  ^'vexation  of  spirit." — Thus,  amidst  all 
the  possessions  and  all  the  splendours  of  royalty,  the 
spirit  of  Ahab  was  dejected  and  unhappy,— and  ^'  he 
turned  away  his  face,  and  would  eat  no  bread,"  be- 
cause he  could  not  have  "  the  vineyard  of  Naboth  the 
Jezreelite,"  that  he  might  add  to  his  pleasure-grounds 
"  a  garden  of  herbs."* 

*  1  Kings,  sxi.  l—S, 


40  LECTURE  lie 

Alas  !  for  human  nature,  that  it  jihould  be  so  !  But 
sovve  see  it,  and  feel  it  to  be ;  that  we  are  inuch  more 
prone  to  be  displeased  on  account  of  particular  evils, 
than  to  be  satisfied  with  abundant  and  diversified  good , 
—to  indulge  in  discontent  because  of  some  one  solitary 
defect,  than  to  cherish  gratitude  for  unnumbered  and 
substantial  blessings.— This  is  a  crook  in  the  nature  of 
our  fallen  race,  which  nothing  can  efiectually  make 
straight  but  the  renewing  energy  of  the  grace  of  God. 

The  first  trial  which  Solomon  represents  himself  as 
having  made,  in  his  course  of  experiments  on  human 
happiness,  is  that  of  wisdom  : — verses  16 — 18.  "  I 
communed  with  mine  own  heart,  saying,  Lo  I  am  come 
to  great  estate,  and  have  gotten  more  wisdom  than  all 
that  have  been  before  me  in  Jerusalem ;  yea,  my  heart 
had  great  experience  of  wisdom  and  knowledge.  And 
I  gave  my  heart  to  know  wisdom,  and  to  know  madness 
and  folly  :  I  perceived  that  this  also  is  vexation  of  spirit. 
For  in  much  wisdom  (is)  much  grief;  and  he  that  in- 
creaseth  knowledge  increaseth  sorrow." 

By  the  wisdom  here  spoken  of  we  may  understand, 
all  that  knowledge,  in  the  various  departments  of  which 
men  are  accustomed  to  seek  gratification  and  enjoy- 
ment : — the  knowledge  of  mankind,  from  present  ob- 
servation, and  the  records  of  history  ;  of  the  arts  and 
sciences  ;  of  the  productions  and  phenomena  of  the  na> 
tural  world,  in  its  different  kingdoms  ;  and,  if  you  will, 
of  the  philosophy  of  mind  and  of  morals,  considered  as 
a  branch  of  speculative  and  abstract  investigation. 

God  had  imparted  to  Solomon  a  penetrating  and  ca- 
pacious mind,  in  the  exercise  of  whose  powers  he  ac- 
quired that  distinguished  superiority  in  wisdom  and 
knowledge,  which  made  him  the  admiration,  not  of  his 
own  people  only,  but  of  surrounding  countries,  in  the 


ECCLES.  I.  12 — 18.  41 

age  in  which  he  lived.  "  God  gave  Solomon, ''  says  the 
Scripture  record,  "  wisdom  and  understanding  exceed- 
ing  much,  and  largeness  of  heart,  even  as  the  sand  that 
(is)  on  the  sea-shore.  And  Solomon's  wisdom  excelled 
the  wisdom  of  all  the  children  of  the  east  epuntry,  and 
all  the  wisdom  of  Egypt.  For  he  was  wiser  than  all 
men  ;  than  Ethan  the  Ezrahite,  and  Heman,  and  Chal- 
col,  and  Darda,  the  sons  of  Mahol :  and  his  fa'me  was 
in  all  nations  round  about.  And  he  spake  three  thou- 
sand proverbs  ;  and  his  songs  were  a  thousand  and  five. 
And  he  spake  of  trees,  from  the  cedar-tree  that  (is)  in 
Lebanon  even  unto  the  hyssop  that  springeth  out  of  the 
wall :  he  spake  also  of  beasts,  and  of  fowl,  and  of  creep- 
ing things,  and  of  fishes.  And  there  came  of  all  people 
to  hear  the  wisdom  of  Solomon,  from  all  kings  of  the 
earth  who  had  heard  of  his  wisdom."* 

Had  Solomon  continued,  as  he  did  at  first,  to  use  his 
mighty  intellect  in  subserviency  to  the  glory  of  the 
Author  of  his  being,  and  of  all  his  powers,  and  in  hum- 
ble dependence  for  true  happiness  on  Him,  without 
Vv'hom  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  are  poverty,  and  all 
its  light  darkness ; — it  had  been  %vcll.  But  far  otherwise 
did  he  act,  in  '*  the  days  of  his  vanity."  He  foolishly- 
expected  to  find  the  desired  felicity  in  knowledge  it- 
self, without  being  conducted  by  that  knowledge  to 
God,  "  the  Father  of  lights,  from  whom  cgmeth  down 
every  good  and  perfect  gift.*'  He  drank  greedily  of  the 
streams  of  science,  without  tracing  them  to  their  foun- 
tain. He  expatiated  among  the  works  of  God,  and  for» 
got  God  himself. 

When  he  says,  ''  My  heart  had  great  experience  of 
wisdom  and  knowledge,"  we  may  understand  by  the 
heart  either.,  according  to  a  frequent  use  of  the  word  in 

*  I  King's  iv.  29—34. 

F 


4:^  LECTURE  11. 

Scripture,  the  mind  in  general,  trying  and  comparing 
the  different  descriptions  of  knowledge ;  or,  more  re- 
strictedly,  the  seat  of  enjoyment,  proving,  by  experi- 
ment, the  tendencies  of  each  in  reference  to  human  hap- 
piness. — His  "  experience"  in  this  way  was  "  great ;" 
— greater  than  that  of  any  other  man;  for  he  was 
*'  wiser  than  all  men." 

He  "  gave  his  heart  to  know  wisdom  and  to  know 
madness  and  folly  :" — that  is,  either,  in  the  first  place, 
to  obtain  a  thorough  discernment  of  the  amount  of  dif- 
ference between  truth  and  error,  and  between  virtue 
and  vice,  propriety  and  absurdity,  in  human  conduct ; 
— to  know  both  sides,  as  subjects  of  philosophical  in- 
quiry and  speculation ;  as  things  are  in  general  most 
completely  understood,  and  most  powerfully  impressed 
on  the  mind,  by  means  of  contrast :  or,  secondly,  to 
compare  the  claims  to  preference,  arising  from  their  in- 
fluence respectively  on  present  enjoyment,  of  a  studious 
and  contemplative  life  on  the  one  hand,  and  a  life  of 
madness  and  folly  on  the  other ;  of  a  life  devoted  to 
learning,  in  the  various  branches  of  earthly  science  and 
worldly  wisdom,-- and  a  life  of  thoughtless,  inconside- 
rate  merriment,  careless  indulgence,  and  extravagant 
riot  and  dissipation.  For  as  in  our  own  days  this  latter 
course  of  life  has  its  advocates  as  well  as  the  former,  so 
had  it,  we  may  presume,  in  the  days  of  Solomon  ;  men 
who  admitted  it  readily  enough  to  be  madness  and  folly, 
but  who  gloried  in  the  very  folly  and  madness  of  it, 
laughed  at  the  bookish  recluse,  as  at  any  rate  a  greater 
fool  than  themselves,  moping  away  life  in  solitary  re- 
search and  rueful  meditation  ;  and  were  determined  to 
throw  their  tares  to  the  winds,  to  drink  down  melan- 
choly, to  give  the  reins  to  their  appetites,  and  take  their 
full  swing  of  frolic,  and  carousal,  and  profligacy. 


ECCLES.  I.    12 18.  43 

To  compare  these  and  other  pretending  sources  of 
happiness,  and  to  estimate  their  respective  claims,  was 
a  part  of  his  study. — But  mark  now  especially  what  he 
says  of  his  pursuit  of  wisdom  :  "  I  perceived  that  this 
also  is  vexation  of  spirit :  for  in  much  wisdom  is  much 
grief;  and  he  that  increaseth  knowledge  increaseth 
sorrow." 

This  seems  a  very  strange  assertion.  There  cannot 
be  a  doubt,  that,  among  all  the  sources  from  which  men 
seek  their  happiness,  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  (under- 
standing the  phrase  in  all  its  extent  of  meaning,  with 
the  one  exception  only  of  the  knowledge  that  '^  maketh 
wise  unto  salvation,"  which  it  is  evident  must  not  be 
taken  at  all  into  the  account,)  is  decidedly  the  most  ra- 
tional, and  the  most  fitted,  from  its  nature,  to  yield  en- 
joyment worthy  of  such  a  creature  as  man.  Yet  even 
of  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  Solomon  here  affirms,  that 
"  in  much  wisdom  (is)  much  ^rief ;"  and  that  "  he  that 
increaseth  knowledge  increaseth  sorrow." — Let  us, 
first  of  all,  then,  contemplate  human  wisdom  apart  from 
the  knowledge  of  God  and  Divine  things,  and  take  an 
attentive  view  of  the  circumstances  from  which  the 
grief  and  sorrow  of  which  he  speaks  may  be  considered 
as  arising. 

In  the  first  place  :  This  wisdom  and  knowledge,  if  a 
man  is  determined  to  go  far  beyond  his  fellows  in  the 
acquisition  of  it,  must  be  discovered,  and  examined, 
and  appropriated  by  '•'much  study ;^^  and  this,  as  Solo- 
mon observes  towards  the  close  of  his  treatise,  is  "  a 
•weariness  of  the  jiesh" — It  is  not  easy  for  the  unin- 
formed and  inexperienced  to  imagine  the  fatigue  of 
mind,  and  the  consequent  fatigue  of  body,  to  which  the 
men  who  devote  their  days  to  learning  must  lay  their 
account  to  subject  themselves.  Solomon  speaks  of 
l^much  wisdonij"   and  of  the   increase^   or  growing 


44.'  LECTURE  II. 

abundance  of  knowledge.  Now  such  extraordinary  ai  • 
tamments  must  be  purchased  at  the  expense  of  intense 
and  constant  application  ;  which  is  inconceivably  more 
wasting  and  exhausting  to  the  constitution,  than  the 
hardest  toil  of  the  industrious  labourer;  and  to  which 
many,  earlier  or  later  in  life,  some  with  a  mournful  and 
lamented  prematurity,  have  fallen  victims. — The  inces- 
sant stretch  of  the  mind's  faculties,  frequent  harassing 
and  anxious  perplexity,  studious  days  and  sleepless 
nights  must  be  his  portion,  who  sets  his  heart  on  the 
attainment  of  unusal  eminence,  in  science  in  general, 
or  in  any  of  its  various  departments. 

Secondly  :  In  this  pursuit,  as  in  others,  there  are 
many  disappointments  to  be  exj)ected,  to  fret,  and  mor- 
tify, and  irritate  the  spirit : — such  as,  experiments  fail- 
ing, some  of  them  perhaps  long-continued,  promising, 
and  costl}'  ;■— facts  turning  out  contradictory,  and  un- 
setdhig  or  overturning  favourite  theories  ;-— the  means 
of  prosecuting  a  train  of  discovery  fulling  short,  at  the 
very  moment,  it  may  be,  when  they  are  most  desirable ; 
trifling  and  worthless  results  arising,  after  much  labour, 
long-tried  patience,  and  sanguine  expectation ;— the 
anticipated  honour  and  pleasure  of  introducing  a  new 
and  important  invention  or  discovery,  the  product  of 
the  experiments  and  investigations  of  years,  lost  on  the 
very  eve  of  arrival,  by  the  priority  of  an  unknown  com- 
petitor.— These,  and  numberless  other  occasions  of 
mortification  and  disquietude,  more  and  less  considera- 
ble, revealed  or  kept  secret  in  the  bosom,  may  be  ex- 
pected in  the  lot  of  the  man  who  devotes  himself  to 
science. 

Thirdly  :  There  are  some  parts  of  knowledge  which 
are,  in  their  very  nature,  painful  and  distressing. — In  a 
world  where  sin  reigns,  and  which,  on  account  of  sin, 


ECCLES.  I.   i2 IS.  4§ 

lies  under  the  curse  of  God,  many  must  be  the  scenes 
of  misery,  many  the  afflicting  occurrences  and  facts., 
which  present  themselves  to  the  observant  and  investi- 
gating mind,  that  is  in  quest  of  general  and  extensive 
information.  They  abound  both  in  the  past  and  present 
history  of  mankind.  They  arc  fitted  to  fill  the  heart 
with  ''grief"  and  "sorrow;"  and  the  more  a  man's 
knowledge  extends,— the  more  he  reads,  and  hears,  and 
observes,  the  more  copious  v;ill  this  source  of  bitterness 
become. — Not  but  that  there  is  much  of  an  opposite 
and  pleasing  description,  as  a  set-ofF against  those  evils; 
- — but  it  is  enough,  that  there  ore  actually  causes  of 
positive  distress,  and  causes  that  necessarily  multiply 
with  the  growing  extent  of  a  man's  knowledge. 

Fourthly  :  There  is  to  be  taken  into  account  the 
mortification  of  pride  that  must  be  experienced,  in  con- 
sequence  of  the  limited  nature  of  the  human  faculties. 
There  are,  in  every  direction  in  which  the  rinnd  may 
choose  to  push  its  inquiries,  boundaries,  beyond  which 
it  attempts  in  vain  to  penetrate.  And  when  the  man 
who  makes  scientific  research  his  supreme  good,  and 
the  main  object  of  his  life,  finds,  that  in  every  depart- 
ment of  investigation  he  arrives  at  some  point,  beyond 
which  his  powers,  strained  to  their  utmost  effort,  cannot 
carry  him,_at  some  subject  that  baffles  all  his  endea- 
vours to  comprehend  it,— some  question  which  he  can- 
not  answer,— some  difficulty  which  he  cannot  solve ; 
— that  the  most  luminous  path  of  discovery  terminates 
at  length  in  impenetrable  obscurity  :_there  is  apt  to 
spring  up,  in  the  natural  mind,  an  indignant  dissatis- 
faction, the  offspring  of  the  unsubdued  pride  and  self- 
sufficiency  of  intellect,  which  cannot  fail  to  produce, 
and  sometimes  in  a  very  high  degree,  disquietude  and 
"  vexation  of  spirit." 


46  LECTURE  II. 

Fifthly :  There  is  a  similar  feeling  of  mortification, 
arising  from  the  very  circumstance,  that,  with  all  the 
knowledge  and  wisdom  that  are  acquired,  there  is  still  a 
blank,  still  a  consciousness  of  want  and  deficiency,  in  re- 
gard to  true  happiness.— I  do  not  mean  the  want  of  any 
additional  knowledge,— the  want  of  something  of  the 
same  kind  that  has  not  been  attained,  and  the  attainment 
of  which  seems  difficult  or  hopeless ;— but  a  want  which 
even  such  additional  attainments  could  not  supply.  The 
man  himself,  while  -sensible,  irksomely  sensible  of  it, 
may  not  be  well  aware  what  it  is,  lor  whence  it  arises  ; 
he  may  feel  it,  without  knowing  how  it  is  to  be  re- 
moved.  He  may  sigh  for  the  unknown  something,  and 
wonder  that  he  should  not  be  happy.    And  few  things 
can  be  conceived  more  galling  to  the  spirit,  more  vexa- 
tiously  mortifying,  more  fitted  to  fill  a  man  with  des- 
peration, and  with  a  fretful  and  sullen  "  hatred  of  all 
his  labour  w^iich  he  hath  taken  under  the  sun,"  than 
this  bitter  consciousness,  that  with  all  his  study,  all  his 
research,  all  his  learning,  all  his  varied  acquirements, 
there  should  still  exist  such  a  sense  of  w^ant,  as  to  full 
satisfaction  and  happiness. 

Sixthly  :  The  man  of  "  much  wisdom"  and  *'  in- 
creased knowledge,"  generally,  if  not  universally,  be- 
comes  the  marked  object  of  the  scorn  of  some,  and  the 
envy  of  others. — Some  depreciate  his  studies  and  all 
their  results,  laugh  at  them,  and  hold  them  up  to  con- 
tempt  and  ridicule.  Others  are  stung  with  secret  jea- 
lousy ;  which  is  the  odious  parent  of  all  the  hidden  arts 
of  detraction  and  calumny,  and  of  injurious  and  un- 
v.?orthy  attempts  to  deprive  him  of  his  well-earned  ho- 
nours, and  to  cast  him  down  from  his  excellency." 
And  it  is  not  merely  the  apprehended  or  the  suffered 
aonsequences  of  such  mean  and  wicked  arts  that  is  dis- 


ECCLES.  I.  12 — 18.  47 

tressing;— to  a  mind  of  generous  and  honourable  feel- 
ing it  must  be  grief  and  "  vexation  of  spirit,"  even  to 
be  the  object  of  passions  so  vile  and  devilish. 

Lastly  :  There  is  yet  another  consideration,  which 
to  some  of  you  may  seem  far-fetched,  but  which  I  can- 
not forbear  noticing. — The  man  who  occupies  his 
powers  in  the  pursuit  and  acquisition  of  human  wis- 
dom alone,  careless  of  God,  and  uninfluenced  by  re- 
gaxd  to  his  authority  and  to  his  glory,  is  leaving  eter- 
nity a  wretched  blank ;  has  no  solid  and  satisfactory 
support  in  the  anticipation  of  it,  when  the  thought  in- 
trudes itself  upon  his  mind  ;  and  is  treasuring  up  grief 
and  sorrow  for  the  close  of  his  career.  God  having  been 
neglected,  his  powers  must  be  considered,  in  the  Di- 
vine estimate,  and  in  the  estimate  of  an  awakened  con- 
science, as  having  been  wasted  and  abused  , — science 
will  not  yield  him  peace  and  hope  in  the  "  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  death  ;"  and  a  neglected  God  will  call 
him  to  account  for  the  use  made  of  those  faculties  which 
he  himself  had  bestowed,  and  of  whose  exercise  he 
ought  himself  to  have  been  the  first  and  highest  object. 
— However  lawful,  nay,  however  apparently  excellent 
and  honourable  his  pursuits  themselves  may  have  been, 
the  reckoning  will  be  fearful,  when  God  is  found  to 
have  been  awanting :— fearful, — and  justly  fearful.  In 
proportion  to  the  greatness  and  variety  of  the  powers 
conferred,  and  the  capabilities  thence  arising,  will  the 
shame  and  remorse  be  deep,  and  the  guilt  and  punish 
ment  aggravated. 

Whilst  such  considerations  as  these  may  serve  to 
vindicate  and  illustrate  the  affirmation  that  "  in  much 
wisdom  (is)  much  grief,  and  that  he  who  increaseth 
knowledge  increaseth  sorrow  ;"— it  is  necessary  to  ob« 
serve,  that  Solomon  does  not  by  any  means  say,  that  in 


48  LECTURE  II. 

"  mucli  wisdom  and  increase  of  knowledge"  there  is 
720  ^enjoyment.  That  were  a  very  different  proposition. 
There  may  and  must  be  enjoyment, — various  in  kind 
and  in  degree. — But,  like  the  enjoyment  springing  from 
every  worldly  and  temporal  source,  it  is  mixed  with 
much  of  an  opposite  character.  And,  therefore,  it  is, 
that  such  wisdom  and  knowledge,  considered  by  them- 
selves, opart  from  something  still  higher  and  still  better, 
considered  as  constituting  the  happiness  of  the  man 
who  seeks  and  possesses  them,  must  ever  be  found 
vain ;— can  never  be  a  sufficient  portion  to  the  immor- 
tal soul,  especially  in  its  anticipations  of  eternal  exis- 
tence ;— can  never  impart  to  the  mind  full,  and  steady, 
and  permanent  satisfaction. 

The  passage,  thus  explained,  suggests  two  conclu- 
ding reflections  : — 

In  the  first  place  : — *'  Godliness  with  contentment  is 
great  gain."*_If  it  is  impossible  for  a  man,  with  all 
his  labour  and  all  his  skill,  to  control  the  administration 
of  providence,  to  command  events,  and  to  order  all  the 
circumstances  of  his  lot  exactly  to  his  mind  ;  if  univer- 
sal experience  confirms  the  truth,  that  "  that  which  is 
crooked  cannot  be  made  straight,  and  that  which  is 
wanting  cannot  be  numbered:"  then  the  secret  of  true 
happiness  must  consist,  in  having  the  mind  reconciled 
to  that  which  is  crooked,  and  to  that  which  is  deficient ; 
—in  being  submissive  to  all  the  arrangements  of  the 
Supreme  will.  Such  submission  can  only  arise  from 
the  confidence  of  faith  in  the  wisdom,  faithfulness,  and 
love,  of  our  heavenly  Father,  and  the  assurance  of  his 
universal  and  unceasing  care  of  all  the  interests  of  his 
children.  "  Are  not  two  sparrows  sold  for  a  farthing  ? 
yet  one  of  them  shall  not  fall  on  the  ground  without 

'  I  Tim.  vi.  6. 


ECCLES.  I.   13 18.  49 

your  Father.  But  the  very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all 
numbered."^' — This  is  our  encouragement  to  "  cast  all 
our  cares  upon  him.  He  careth  for  us."  It  is  when  we 
avail  ourselves  of  the  precious  privilege,  "in  every 
thing  by  prayer  and  supplication,  with  thanksgiving,  to 
make  our  requests  known  unto  God,"  that  ^*  the  peace 
of  God  which  passeth  all  understanding  keeps  our 
heart  and  mind  by  Christ  Jesus."t — **  We  know  that 
all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love 
God,  to  them  who  are  the  called  according  to  his  pur- 
pose. "| — "  That  which  is  crooked"  and  "  that  which 
is  wanting"  may  thus  be  numbered  amongst  our  very 
benefits,  as  contributing,  according  to  the  design  of 
Him  who  gives  and  withholds  at  his  pleasure,  to  ad- 
vance our  best  and  highest  interests ;  to  spiritualize  our 
affections  ;  to  disengage  our  hearts  from  the  world  ;  to 
save  us  from  the  danger  of  making  it  bur  portion ;  to 
draw  us  away  from  all  its  sinful  pleasures,  and  to  mo- 
derate and  sanctify  our  attachment  even  to  its  lawful 
enjoyments;  to  bring  us,  in  the  state  of  our  minds  and 
the  tenor  of  our  conduct,  into  more  full  conformity  to 
the  spirit  of  the  apostolic  admonition : — "But  this  I 
say,  brethren,  the  time  is  short.  It  remaineth,  that  both 
they  that  have  wives  be  as  though  they  had  none ;  and 
they  that  weep  as  though  they  wept  not ;  and  they  that 
rejoice  as  though  they  rejoiced  not ;  and  they  that  buy 
as  though  they  possessed  not ;  and  they  that  use  this 
world  as  not  abusing  (it ;)  because  the  fashion  of  this 
world  passeth  away."§— In  such  a  world,  my  brethren, 
as  that  which  we  inhabit,  where  there  are  so  many 
wants  that  cannot  be  supplied,  and  evils  that  cannot  be 
avoided,  he  is  the  truly  happy  man,  who  has  been  taught 

*  Matt.  X,  29,  30,  f  Phil.  iv.  6,  7. 

+  Kom.  viii.  28.  fj  1  Cor.  vii.  29—51. 


50  LECTURE  If. 

of  God  the  rare  and  precious  lesssoii  of  contentment  in 
all  conditions ; — "  Not  that  I  speak  in  respect  of  want ; 
for  I  have  learned,  in  whatsoever  state  I  am,  therewith 
to  be  content.  I  know  both  how  to  be  abased,  and  I 
know  how  to  abound :  everywhere,  and  in  all  tilings  I 
am  instructed,  both  to  be  full  and  to  be  hungry,  both 
to  abound,  and  to  sufler  need:"*— he  is  the  truly  happy 
man  who  in  prosperity  and  adversity  sees  the  love  of  a 
father, — in  the  former  "  crowning  him  with  loving- 
kindness  and  tender  mercies,"  in  the  latter  *^  correcting 
him  for  his  profit ;"  and  who  is  prepared  to  say,  under 
all  the  trials  and  bereavements  of  life,  when  he  feels  his 
inability  to  rectify  that  which  is  crooked,  or  to  number 
that  which  is  wanting, — "  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord 
hath  taken  away  ;~blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord !" 
— "  Shall  we  receive  good  at  the  hand  of  the  Lord  and 
shall  we  not  receive  evil  also  ?"t 

In  the  second  place : — There  is  one  description  of 
Avisdom  and  knowledge,  that  is  infinitely  excellent  and 
desirable ;— not  the  source  of  grief  and  sorrow,  but  the 
fountain  of  pure  and  everlasting  joy.  "  This  is  life  eter- 
nal,  that  they  might  know  thee,  the  only  true  God,  and 
Jesus  Christ  whom  thou  hast  sent."J — Here  is  know- 
ledge worth  having  and  worth  seeking :  infinitely  ex- 
alted in  its  subject,  and  unutterably  precious  in  its  re- 
sults. Were  a  man  to  possess  all  knowledge  besides 
this;  to  concentrate  in  his  own  mind  the  collected 
science  of  all  countries  and  of  all  generations ;— the 
want  of  this  would  turn  all  to  "  vanity  and  vexation  of 
spirit."  And  on  the  contrary,  the  most  ignorant  and  il- 
literate of  mankind,  as  to  other  branches  of  knowledge, 
if  possessed  of  this,  is  truly  wise ;  for  he  is  "  wise  to- 
ward God,"  "  wise  unto  salvation,"  wise  for  eternity, 

*  Phil.  iv.  11,  12.  t  Job  i.  21.  ii.  19.  t  John  xvii,  ? 


ECCLES.  I.  12 — 18.  51 

Even  now,  this  wisdom  imparts  the  purest  and  most 
elevated  delight,  amidst  all  the  trying  viscissitudes  of 
this  valley  of  tears.  The  pleasures  that  arise  from  other 
kinds  of  knowledge  are  themselves  mingled  with  "  grief 
and  sorrow,"  and  are  incapable  of  imparting.to  the  soul 
any  solid  and  effectual  consolation  and  support  under 
the  other  troubles  of  life  :-~and  when  we  look  forward, 
and  anticipate  the  close  of  this  earthly  scene,  we  behold 
this  wisdom  ending  in  the  enjoyment  and  fulfilment  of 
good  hope, — in  the  possession  of  everlasting  and  un 
mingled  felicity ; — and  every  other,  however  valued, 
and  pursued,  and  applauded  by  men,  terminating  in 
despair  and  darkness,  and  eternal  shame. 

The  gospel  of  Christ, — the  doctrine  of  the  cross, 
though  esteemed  foolishness  by  men,  is  "  the  power  of 
God,  and  the  wisdom  of  God."  It  is  the  study  of  an- 
gels. They  desire  to  look  into  it.  They  explore  its 
sublime  mysteries  with  intense  and  unwearied  delight. 
"  If  any  man  among  you,  then,  seemeth  to  be  wise  in 
this  world,  let  him  become  a  fool  that  he  may  be  wise." 
You  can  never  be  truly  and  profitably  wise,  but  by 
sitting  down  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  and  "  learning  of  him." 
Here,  my  friends, — in  this  blessed  Book,  "given  by 
inspiration  of  God,"- — here,  are  the  treasures  of  wisdom 
and  knowledge.  An  acquaintance  with  its  precious 
contents  may  not  procure  you  a  reputation  for  wisdom 
in  the  world,  may  not  enrol  your  names  amongst  its 
honoured  and  applauded  sages ;  but  it  will  procure  for 
you  what  is  infinitely  more  valuable,  "  the  honour  that 
cometh  from  God  only." — Let  Christians  seek  above 
all  things  that  they  may  grow  in  this  knowledge  ;— the 
knowledge  of  the  Divine  word,  in  all  its  inexhaustible 
riches  and  variety  of  contents  ;~never  losing  sight  of 
him  who  is  "  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  word,"— the 


52  LECTURE  II.     ECCliES.  I.   12—18. 

reality  of  legal  shadows,  the  spirit  of  prophecy,  and  tlie 
glorious  theme  of  apostolic  testimony. — **  Let  the  word 
of  Christ  dwell  in  you  richly."  In  much  of  this  wisdom, 
there  is  much  gladness,  and  he  that  increaseth  this 
knowledge  increaseth  joy.- — "  My  son,  if  thou  wilt  re- 
ceive my  words,  and  hide  my  commandments  vvith  thee; 
so  that  thou  incline  thine  ear  unto  wisdom  (and)  apply 
thine  heart  to  understanding  ;  yea,  if  thou  criest  after 
knowledge,  (and)  liftest  up  thy  voice  for  understand- 
ing ;  if  thou  seekest  her  as  silver,  and  searchest  for  her 
as  (for)  hid  treasures ;  then  shalt  thou  understand  the 
fear  of  the  Lord,  and  find  the  knowledge  of  God.  For 
the  Lord  giveth  wisdom :  out  of  his  mouth  (cometh) 
knowledge  and  understanding.  He  layeth  up  sound 
wisdom  for  the  righteous :  (he  is)  a  buckler  to  them 
that  walk  uprightly.  He  keepeth  the  paths  of  judgment, 
and  preserveth  the  way  of  his  saints.  Then  shalt  thou 
understand  righteousness,  and  judgment,  and  equity  ; 
(yea;)  every  good  path." 


LECTURE  III. 


EccLEs.  ii.  1 — 11. 

1  "  /  said  in  mine  heart.  Go  to  now,  I -will  prove  thee  with  mirth  S 

2  therefore  enjoy  filcasure  :  and,  behold,  this  also  (is)  vatiity,  J  said 

3  of  laughter,  fit  is)  mad:  and  of  mirth,  Whatdoethit?  I  sought  in 
mine  heart  to  give  myself  unto  wine,  yet  acquainting  mine  heart  with 
wisdom,  and  to  lay  hold  on  folly,  till  I  might  see  what  fwasj  that 
good  for  the  sons  of  men  which  they  should  do  under  the  heaven  all 

4  the  days  of  their  life.  I  made  me  great  works ;  I  buildcd  me  houses  ; 

5  I  planted  me  vineyards  ;  I  made  me  gardens  and  orchards,  and  1 

6  planted  trees  in  them  of  all  (kind  of)  fruits;   I  made  me  pools  of 

7  water,  to  water  therewith  the  wood  that  bringeth  forth  trees  ;  I  got 
(me)  servants  and  maidens,  and  had  servants  born  in  my  house  ; 
also  I  had  great  possessions  of  great  and  small  cattle  above  all  that 

8  were  in  Jerusalem  before  me  ;  I  gathered  me  also  silver  and  gold, 
atid  the  peculiar  treasure  of  kings  and  of  the  provinces  ;  I  gat  me 
men-singers  -and  wo?nen-si?igers,  and  the  delights  of  the  sons  of  men, 

9  fas)  musical  instruments,  and  that  of  all  sorts.  So  I  was  great, 
and  increased  more  than  all  that  were  before  me  in  Jerusalem  :  also 

10  my  wisdom  remained  with  me.  And  whatsoever  7nine  eyes  desired  I 
kept  not  from  them  ;  I  withheld  not  my  heart  from  any  joy  ;for  my 
heart  rejoiced  in  all  my  labour  ;  and  this  was  my  portion  of  all  my 

11  labour.  Then  I  looked  on  all  the  works  that  my  hands  had  wrought, 
and  on  the  labour  that  I  had  laboured  to  do  ;  and.  behold,  all  (was) 
vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit,  and  (there  was)  no  profit  undtv 
the  sun." 


Xn  the  16th  verse  of  the  first  chapter,  Solomon  speaks 
of  his  having  "  communed  with  his  own  heart."  It  ap- 
'pears  to  be  this  kind  of  communing  that  he  carries  on 
in  the  beginning  of  the  second.  As  the  rich  man  in  the 
parable  is  represented  as  addressing  his  soul — "  I  will 
say  to  my  soul,  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for 
many  years  take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry," 
— so  does  Solomon  here  address  himself  to  his  heart : 


B4<  LECTURE  III. 

— "  Come,"  says  he,  "  I  will  prove  thee  with  mirth.'' 
'Wisdom,  thou  hast  found,  will  not  suffice  to  give  thee 
the  satisfaction  thou  seekest ;  let  me  try  thee,  then, 
with  something  else.  In  much  wisdom,  thou  hast  dis- 
covered, there  is  much  grief;  try  then,  what  mirth  can 
do  to  make  thee  happy.  **  In  this  enjoy  pleasure.'"' — • 
Seq  if  pleasure,  or  happiness,  lies  here. 

The  word  pleasure^  is  not,  I  apprehend,  to  be  here 
understood  in  the  restricted  sense  in  which  we  fre- 
quently use  it,  as  nearly  synonymous  with  the  7nirth 
to  which  Solomon  determined  to  have  recourse ;  but 
in  the  more  enlarged  and  general  sense  of  happiness, — 
that  which  was  the  great  object  of  inquiry  and  pursuit, 
that  on  which  the  course  of  experiments  was  making: 
"  Come,  I  will  prove  thee  with  mirth  :  in  it  enjoy  hap- 
piness ;'''' — more  literally,  "  In  it  see  good  .-''^ — try  this 
new  source  of  enjoyment ;  whether  if  will  any  better 
suit  thy  taste,  and  fill  up  thine  unsatisfied  v.^ishes. 

Here,  then,  we  behold  the  king  of  Israel  descending 
from  the  pleasures  of  learning  to  the  pleasures  of  sense. 
He  now  appears  before  us,  surrounded  with  the  gay, 
the  witty,  the  mirthful,  the  voluptuous,  the  profligate : 
those  choice  spirits,  as  they  counted  and  called  them- 
selves and  one  another,  who  fancied  the  secret  of  hap- 
piness to  lie,  in  banishing  all  reflection,  in  laughing  at 
preciseness  and  melancholy,  and  drowning  care  in 
merriment  and  revelry. 

He  did  not,  however,  relinquish  entirely  his  former 
pursuits.  In  the  third  verse,  he  informs  us,  that  whilst 
he  sought  to  give  himself  unto  wine,  and  to  lay  hold 
on  folly,  he  still  acquainted  his  heart  with  wisdom ; 
and,  in  the  ninth  verse,  that  "  his  wisdom  also  re- 
mained with  him." — In  the  pursuits  of  wisdom  he  had 
found  pleasure;  but  it  was  a  pleasure  mingled  with 


ECCLES.  II.  1 11.  55 

much  grief  and  sorrow.  It  seems,  therefore,  to  have 
been  his  next  plan,  not  to  relinquish  these  pursuits  in 
disgust,  but,  whilst  he  continued  to  enjoy  the  satisfac- 
tion they  were  fitted  to  impart,  to  overcome  and  banish 
the  griefs  which  they  had  occasioned ; — to  retain  the 
pleasure,  and  to  drown  the  care.  He  still,  therefore,  oc- 
cupies a  portion  of  his  time  in  the  studies  before  de- 
scribed ;  and  a  great  part  of  the  remainder  he  devoted 
to  the  banqueting  room,— to  the  social  pleasures  of 
jovial  festivity. 

But  instead  of  *'  mirth"  answering  the  purpose,  either 
of  making  him  happy  by  itself,  or  of  supplying  the 
deficiencies  of  wisdom,  he  pronounces  upon  it  the  same 
verdict : — "  and  behold,  this  also  is  vanity."  His  in- 
quiry was,  Where  shall  happiness  be  found  ?  and  where 
is  the  place  of  true  enjoyment  ?~and  intemperate  mirth, 
like  human  science  and  earthly  wisdom,  said,  but  with 
still  more  impressive  emphasis,  It  is  not  in  me. 

'^  I  said  of  laughter"  (verse  2d)  "  It  is  mad;  and  of 
mirth,  Whatdoeth  it?"— 

This  seems  to  have  been  his  language  to  himself, 
when  his  seasons  of  merriment  were  over,  and  he  be- 
gan, in  his  moments  of  cool  sobriety,  to  ^^  commune 
with  his  heart,"  and  to  reflect  seriously  on  what  he  had 
been  about.  It  is  the  record  of  dear-bought  experi- 
ence ;— designed  by  him  for  the  warning  of  others, 
after  his  own  soul  had  been  mercifully  recovered  from 
the  perilous  mazes  of  error  and  sin  in  which  he  had 
gone  astray  :— "  I  said  of  laughter,  It  is  mad."  The 
intemperate  mirth  in  which  he  had  indulged,  was  like 
a  temporary  phrenzy  ;  during  which,  Reason  and  Re- 
ligion were  alike  dethroned  from  the  empire  of  the 
mind,  and  all  was  wild  and  tumultuous  disorder.  It  was 
surely  much  liker  tlie  fancy  of  a  derajiged  than  of  a 


56  LECTURE  III. 

sound  and  collected  mind,  that  true  happiness  could 
consist  in  mere  thoughtless  and  unbridled  merriment ; 
and  it  was  the  act  of  such  a  mind  to  bring  this  fancy- 
to  practical  experiment. — We  pity  from  the  heart  the 
hapless  subjects  of  mental  derangement,  who  are  in- 
sensible of  their  melancholy  lot,  and  who  seem,  in 
the  midst  of  real  wretchedness,  to  enjoy  an  imaginary 
felicity. 

Moody  madness,  laughing  wild. 

Amid  severest  wo. 

is,  of  all  the  sufferings  of  this  valley  of  tears,  the  most 
deeply  touching.  And  what  shall  we  think  of  the 
soundness  of  that  man's  intellect,  and  with  what  de- 
scription of  feelings  are  we  to  contemplate  him,  who, 
surrounded  with  scenes,  so  many  and  so  various,  both 
in  private  and  in  public  life,  of  a  nature  fitted  to  awaken 
to  serious  thoughtfulness,  and  acknowledging  himself 
too  an  accountable  and  immortal  being,  yet  makes  the 
banishment  of  thought  the  problem  of  his  life,  seeks 
his  happiness  in  the  absence  of  all  reflection,  devotes 
himself  to  unrestrained  mirth  amidst  a  world  of  wo, 
and  to  unreflecting  laughter  and  jollity  with  the  grave 
and  the  judgment- seat  before  his  eyes  ?  Is  this  any 
thing  short  of  the  insensibility  of  madness  ?  Does  the 
Christian  poet  use  too  bold  a  comparison,— or  does  he 
not  rather  ^-  speak  the  words  of  truth  and  soberness,'* 
when  he  compares  such  men  to  '^  maniacs  dancing  in 
their  chains  ?"— It  was  the  language  of  heart-stricken 
feeling, — the  language  of  deep  experimental  conviction 
that  Solomon  used  when  he  said  of  such  laughter,  *'  It 
is  mad,"  and  of  mirth  like  this,  "What  doeth  it?" 
What  doeth  it  toward  the  production  of  true  happiness? 
.What  is  enjoyed  that  deserves  the  name,  even  during 
its  boisterous  reign  ?  and  what  remains  from  U  when 


ECCLES.  11.   1—11.  57 

that  reign  is  over  ? — *'  Even  in  laughter,"  (such  is  the 
record  elsewhere  of  his  own  experience)  "  Even  in 
laughter,  the  heart  is  sorrowful ;  and  the  end  of  that 
mirth  (is)  heaviness:"* — '^  for,  as  the  crackling  of 
thorns  under  a  pot,  so  (is)  the  laughter  of  the  fool."t — 
Thoughtless  mirth,  in  a  creature  that  has  so  much  as 
man  has  to  make  him  serious,  is  in  itself  irrational ; 
and  although,  by  those  who  give  themselves  up  to  it, 
it  is  called  "  a  cure  for  the  heart-ache,"  it  is  far,  very 
far  alas  !  from  deserving  the  designation.  It  is,  after 
all,  but  poor  and  flimsy  covering,  either  for  the  cares 
of  an  anxious  mind,  or  the  secret  stingings  of  an  ac- 
cusing conscience,  or  the  .restlessness  of  a  spirit  that 
is  ill  at  ease  and  dissatisfied  with  itself.  And  "  the  end 
of  that  mirth  (is)  heaviness."  It  yields  no  subsequent 
satisfaction.  The  "  yesterday"  of  intemperate  folly 
"  looks  not  backward  with  a  smile."  In  proportion  to 
the  previous  elevation  of  the  spirits  is  the  depth  of  the 
subsequent  depression. — The  lees  of  the  debauch  are 
bitter. — When  the  effervescence  of  the  animal  spirits 
is  over,  and  the  mind  subsides  into  itself,  it  feels  but 
*'  an  aching  void." — The  blaze  of  crackling  thorns  is 
violent  and  noisy,  and,  withal,  while  it  lasts,  wonder- 
fully cheerful  and  enlivening  ;  but  quickly  it  dies  away 
and  leaves  nothing  behind  but  darkness  and  unsightly 
ashes. 

The  "  mirth"  to  which  Solomon  thus  addicted  him- 
self we  have  considered  as  the  mirth  of  festive  convi= 
viality  :— and  I  need  not  say  that  to  such  mirth  the  free 
circulation  of  the  bottle  and  the  glass  is,  in  the  estima- 
tion of  the  hons  vivants,  an  indispensable  requisite. 
How  can  a  company  be  merry  without  wine  ? — This, 
accordingly,  is  not  awanting  in  Solomon's  experiment : 

*  Trov.  xiy.  1 5,  f  EccL  vii.  6, 

H 


58  LECTURE  III. 

— "  I  sought,"  says  he,  ^'  to  give  myself  unto  wine  ;"— 
that  is,  not  to  the  grovelling  practice  of  solitary  drink- 
ing, as  a  mere  gratification  of  animal  appetite,  or  means 
of  intoxication ;  but  to  the  pleasures  of  the  social 
board  :— he  resolved,  to  "  eat,  and  to  drink,  and  to  be 
merry." 

He  determined,  at  the  same  time,  «till  to  "  acquaint 
his  heart  with  wisdom."— Some,  it  is  true,  understand 
this,  of  his  wisely  regulating  his  indulgences,  applying 
pYudence  and  discretion  to  his  pleasures,  enjoying  with, 
out  exceeding. — It  seems  more  natural  to  interpret  it 
as  already  hinted  of,  his  not  renouncing  his  literary  and 
philosophical  pursuits,  but  connecting  them  with  the 
pleasures  of  wine  that  '^  maketh  glad  the  heart  of  man ;" 
associating  the  two  descriptions  of  gratification,  the 
sensual  and  the  intellectual,  the  grosser  and  the  more 
refined.  And,  indeed,  it  is  hardly  to  be  supposed,  that 
when  the  heart  was  "  given  to  wine"  as  a  source  of 
pleasure,  and  given  to  it  amidst  the  '^  mirth"  of  the 
convivial  banquet,  it  was  used  by  the  rule  and  the 
measure  of  prudential  restraint,  and  exemplary  self- 
government  ;  that,  in  this  species  of  indulgence,  the 
Royal  philosopher  *'  let  his  moderation  be  known  unto 
all  men." 

Whilst  he  thus  continued  to  ^'acquaint  his  heart 
with  wisdom,"  he,  at  the  same  time,  "  sought  to  lay 
hold  on  folly  ,•"  by  which  he  seems  to  mean  the  folly 
he  had  just  mentioned.  He  endeavoured  to  combine 
the  two.  He  tried  each,  and  he  tried  both  together. 
And  this  he  did,  that  he  might,  as  he  here  expresses  it, 
^'  see  what  was  that  good  for  the  sons  of  men,  which 
they  should  do  under  the  heaven,  all  the  days  of  their 
life  •,"— that  is,  in  consistency  with  the  object  and  scope 
of  the  whole  Book,  that  he  might  discover,  by  his  own 


ecci.es.  ii.  1 — 11.  59 

experience,  what  was  the  best  and  happiest  way  of 
spending  this  mortal  life  .—and  having  thus  briefly  no- 
ticed his  trial  of  the  "  lust  of  the  flesh  and  of  the  mind," 
he  adds,  in  the  following  verses,  a  fuller  and  a  very 
spirited  description  of  the  experiment  to  which  he 
brought  "  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life." 

Verses  4—11.  "■  I  made  me  great  works;  I  builded 
me  houses;  I  planted  me  vineyards ;  I  made  me  gardens 
and.  orchards,  and  I  planted  trees  in  them  of  all  (kind 
of)  fruits  :  I  made  me  pools  of  water,  to  water  therewith 
the  wood  that  bringeth  forth  trees  ;  I  got  (me)  servants 
and  maidens,  and  had  servants  born  in  my  house  ;  also  I 
had  great  possessions  of  great  and  small  cattle  above  all 
that  were  in  Jerusalem  before  me ;  I  gathered  me  als» 
silver  and  gold,  and  the  peculiar  treasure  of  kings  and 
of  the  provinces  ;  I  gat  me  men-singers  and  women- 
singers,  and  the  delights  of  the  sons  of  men,  (as)  musi- 
cal instruments,  and  that  of  all  sorts.  So  I  was  great, 
and  increased  more  than  all  that  were  before  me  in  Je- 
rusalem :  also  my  wisdom  remained  with  mc.  And 
whatsoever  mine  eyes  desired  I  kept  not  from  them ;  I 
withheld  not  my  heart  from  any  joy  :  for  my  heart  re- 
joiced in  all  my  labour ;  and  this  was  my  portion  of  all 
my  labour.  Then  I  looked  on  all  the  works  that  my 
hands  had  wrought,  and  on  the  labour  that  I  had  la- 
boured to  do;  and,  behold,  all  (was)  vanity  and  vexa- 
tion of  spirit,  and  (there  was)  no  profit  under  the  sun." 

It  is  unnecessary  to  dwell  long  on  the  various  par- 
ticulars in  this  enumeration. 

He  "  made  him  great  works  ;''^—ho\\\  private  and 
public ;  such  as  might  gratify  ambition  and  the  love 
of  fame,  by  exciting  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  his 
own  subjects  and  of  strangers,  might  afford  objects  of 
contemplation  for  the  eye  of  his  vanity,  and  give  scope 


60  LECTURE  in. 

for  such  feelings  of  self-complacency  and  high^minded- 
ne^s  as  were  uttered  by  the  King  of  Babylon,  when, 
standing  on  the  roof  of  his  palace,  in  the  midst  of  his 
splendid  city,  and  surveying  its  stupendous  and  magni- 
ficent structures,  he  said,  '^'  is  not  this  great  Babylon 
that  I  have  built,  for  the  house  of  my  kingdom,  by 
the  might  of  my  power,  and  for  the  honour  of  my 
majesty  ?"* 

I  think  Solomon  may  be  understood  here  as  referr- 
ing, not  only  to  the  works  which  were  actually  con- 
structed during  that  period  of  his  life  which  he  em- 
phatically denominates  "  the  days  of  his  vanity,"  but 
to  those  also  which  he  had  previously  reared,  which  he 
then,  it  may  be  supposed,  enlarged  and  adorned,  and 
began  to  contemplate  with  the  new  and  corrupt  emo- 
tions of  vanity  and  pride. 

He  "  builded  him  houses."  Solomon's  palace  in 
Jerusalem  was  thirteen  years  in  building.  He  built, 
besides,  the  spacious  and  elegant  '^  house  of  the  forest 
of  Lebanon  ;"  and  another  house,  of  similar  costliness 
and  splendour,  for  the  daughter  of  Pharaoh. f  To  these, 
the  history  adds,  "  Millo,  and  the  wall  of  Jerusalem, 
and  Hazor,  and  Megiddo,  and  Gezer ;  Bethhoron  the 
nether,  Baalath,  and  Tadmor  in  the  wilderness  ;  cities 
of  store,  cities  for  his  chariots,  and  cities  for  his  horse- 
men  ;"  and  a  variety  of  other  buildings,  *^  in  Jerusalem, 
in  Lebanon,  and  in  all  the  land  of  his  dominions."J: 

He  ^'  planted  vineyards ;  made  gardens  and  orchards, 
and  planted  in  them  trees  of  all  kinds  of  fruits ;  and 
made  pools  of  water,  to  water  therewith  the  wood  that 
bringeth  forth  trees."— B}'' this  last  expression  are  pro- 
bably meant  those  extensive  nurseries  of  seedlings, 
from  which  his  woods  and  orchards  were  supplied. 

*  Dan,  iv.  30-  -^  1  Kings  vii.  1—12,  +  Ibjd.  ix,  15—19. 


ECCLES.  II,   1 11.  61 

These  he  watered  artificially,  at  great  expense,  and 
with  much  labour  and  skill ;  intersecting  them  with 
canals,  and  feeding  these  canals  from  ponds  and  reser- 
voirs, to  secure  a  constant  and  regular  irrigation. 

The  number  and  variety,  the,  order  and  apparel  of 
Solomon's  servants,  and  the  whole  style  of  his  domes- 
tic establishment,  were  amongst  the  circumstances  by 
which  the  queen  of  Sheba;  on  her  visit  to  Jerusalem, 
was  so  much  astonished,  and  withal,  from  feelings,  it 
may  be  presumed,  of  hopeless  envy,  so  much  dispirited. 
When  she  saw  *'  the  meat  of  his  table,  and  the  sitting 
of  his  servants,  and  the  attendance  of  his  ministers,  and 
their  apparel,  and  his  cup-bearers,"—"  there  was  no 
more  spirit  in  her." 

/  The  abundance  of  his  wealth,  in  '^  great  and  small 
cattle,"  and  in  **  silver  and  gold,"  was  a  fulfilment  of 
the  express  promise  of  God  to  him  at  the  commence- 
ment of  his  reign,  to  add  unprecedented  riches  to  unex- 
ampled wisdom. — "  The  weight  of  gold  that  came  to 
Solomon  in  one  year,  was  six  hundred  threescore  and 
six  talents  of  gold ;  besides  that  he  had  of  the  mer- 
chantmen, and  of  the  traffic  of  the  spice-merchants,  and 
of  all  the  kings  of  Arabia,  and  of  the  governors  of  the 
country."  '^  And  all  king  Solomon's  drinking  vessels 
were  of  gold,  and  all  the  vessels  of  the  house  of  the  fo- 
rest  of  Lebanon  were  of  pure  gold  ;  none  were  of  silver : 
it  was  nothing  accounted  of  in  the  days  of  Solomon." 
"  The  king  made  silver  to  be  in  Jerusalem  as  stones, 
for  abundance."* — Both  national  and  personal  wealth 
flowed  in  from  the  surrounding  countries  :— for  *'  Solo- 
mon reigned  over  all  kingdoms,  from  the  river  unto 
the  land  of  the  Philistines,  and  unto  the  border  of 
Egypt:    they  brought  presents,  and  served  Solomon 

*  IKinffsx.  14,15,  21,  ?7 


&2  LECTURE  III. 

all  the  days  of  his  life."*  •«  All  the  earth  sought  to 
Salomon,  to  hear  his  wisdom,  \\hich  God  had  put  in  his 
heart :  and  they  brought  every  man  his  present,  vessels 
of  silver  and  vessels  of  gold,  and  garments,  and  armour, 
and  spices,  and  horses  and  mules,  a  rate  year  by  year."t 
~It  is  probable  the  riches  derived  from  tributary  states, 
and  from  the  multiplied  and  precious  gifts  of  gratula- 
tion  and  homage,  that  he  describes  under  the  designa- 
tion, ^'  the  peculiar  treasure  of  kings  and  of  the  pro- 
vinces." 

The  wealth  which  the  king  acquired,  was  an  object 
about  which,  in  the  best  days  of  his  reign,  when  he  first 
first  mounted  the  throne  of  Israel,  his  heart  had  been 
very  indifferent.  He  had  sought  the  higher  gifts  of 
'^  wisdom  and  understanding,"  to  fit  him  for  the  happy 
discharge  of  his  Royal  functions.  But  the  riches  which 
at  first,  in  the  exercise  of  an  enlightened  and  upright 
mind,  he  employed  for  advancing  the  glory  of  God, 
and  the  best  interests  of  his  people,  qualified  him  after- 
wards, during  the  period  of  his  backsliding,  when  *'  his 
heart  departed  from  the  Lord,"  for  prosecuting  to  the 
utmost  advantage  his  experiments  on  happiness.  They 
were  not  lodged  in  his  coffers  with  the  avarice  of  a 
miser ;  but  were  profusely  expended  on  all  that  they 
could  procure  of  sensual  gratification.  He  *'  got  him 
men-singers,  and  women-singers,  and  the  delights  of  the 
sons  of  men,  as  musical  instruments,  and  that  of  all 
sorts :  whatsoever  his  eyes  desired,  he  kept  not  from 
them  :  he  withheld  not  his  heart  from  any  joy."— All 
the  senses  were  consulted  and  pampered.  Whatever 
could  contribute  to  charm  the  eye  or  the  ear,  the  taste^ 
the  touch  or  the  smell,  was  procured  by  him,  in  all  its 
variety,  and  in  all  its  excellence.  He  conducted  his  ex 

*  1  Kings  iv.  21.  f  Ibid.  x.  24,  25 


ECCLES.  II.   1  —  11,  63 

periments  on  a  large  scale  ;  sparing  upon  them  no  pains 
and.  no  expense,  and  not  restrained,  by  any  of  the  over- 
delicate  and  inconvenient  scruples  of  a  tender  con 
science,  from  satiating  his  heart  in  all  its  most  extra- 
vagant and  capricious  desires. 

In  the  midst  of  all  his  grandeur,  in  which  (verse  9} 
he  *^  increased  above  all  that  were  before  him  in  Jeru- 
salem," and  in  the  midst  of  all  his  sumptuous  and 
costly  pleasures,  "  his  wisdom  remained  with  him  :"— - 
not  indeed  that  true  wisdom  in  which  he  commenced 
his  reign,  consisting  in  a  mind  regulated,  in  all  its  am- 
ple powers,  by  the  '*  fear  of  the  Lord ;"  but  a  pene- 
trating and  capacious  int-ellect,  with  all  its  vast  and 
varied  acquirements,  in  human  science,  and  in  the 
speculative  knowledge  of  the  theology  of  Israel.  Hi.s 
reputation  for  wisdom  continued  to  equal  his  fame  for 
riches  and  power. 

Solomon,  as  I  have  just  observed,  made  his  experi- 
ments  on  happiness  on  an  extensive  scale  ;  procuring 
for  himself,  by  whatever  trouble,  and  at  whatever  cost, 
every  possible  gratification ;  every  thing  a  roving  fdncy 
could  suggest,  every  thing  a  heart  bent  upon  indul 
gence  could  wish  : — 

Verse  10.  *^  And  whatsoever  mine  eyes  desired  1 
kept  not  from  them;  I  withheld  not  my  heart  from  any 
joy  ;  for  my  heart  rejoiced  in  all  my  labour  ;  and  this 
was  my  portion  of  all  my  labour." 

The  ^'  delights"  which  he  had  enumerated  in  the 
preceding  verses,  were,  in  their  own  nature,  lawful. 
He  went  to  the  utmost  bounds  of  such  enjoyments : 
and  in  prosecuting  his  diversified  works  of  ambition, 
and  elegance,  and  luxurious  refinement,  he  experienced 
a  kin^  of  satisfaction  and  temporary  exhilaration  of 
spirit.     His  mind  was  kept  occupied;   his  attention 


t)4  liECTURE   III. 

busy  :  his  eye  and  ear  felt  the  charm  of  varying  no- 
velty ;  and  the  admiration  excited  by  his  labours,  ter- 
minating upon  himself  as  their  author  and  owner,  gra- 
tified his  vanity.  Thus  "  his  heart  rejoiced  in  his  la- 
bour." He  was  not  interrupted  by  wars ;  he  was  not 
incapacitated  by  sickness  ;  he  was  not  cramped  or  em- 
barrassed by  an  exhausted  or  deficient  treasury;  but 
was  favoured,  by  the  very  God  whom  he  was  forgetting 
and  forsaking,  with  full  and  undistracted  opportunity 
of  indulgence,  in  the  prosecution  of  all  the  modes  of 
gratification  which  his  heart  could  devise.  He  tasted 
their  sweetness  "  without  adversary  or  eviloccurrent;" 
nor  vi^as  his  enjoyment  marred  by  any  grudging  or 
covetous  regret  of  his  immense  expenditure,  which  to 
some  minds  would  have  embittered  the  whole  scene. — 
This  temporary  enjoyment  was  *^  his  portion  of  all  his 
labours."  It  was  what  they  were  intended  to  produce 
to  him.  Present  gratification  was  the  object  of  them 
all :  so  he  made  the  most  of  them  ;  treating  all  his 
wishes  liberally  ;  disdaining  every  feeling  of  niggardli- 
ness ;  glorying  in  his  riches,  and  using  them  for  the 
accomplishment  of  his  ends,  with  open-handed  and  un- 
repining  profusion. 

But  after  all,  where  was  the  charm  in  all  this  ?  It  was 
novelty  merel3^  His  heart  rejoiced  in  his  labours,  but 
not  after  them.  They  were  by  and  by  completed  ;  the 
novelty  of  them  passed  away  ;  and  with  the  novelty,  the 
pleasure  which  they  had  yielded.  There  was  a  lively 
buoyancy  of  spirit  in  the  busy  acquisition  ;  but  it  left 
no  permanent  satisfaction  in  the  subsequent  posses- 
sion ;— a  case  far  from  uncommon,  when  the  mind  has 
been  allowed  to  run  wild  in  quest  of  happiness,  and  has. 
been  trying  to  find  it,  away  from  God  : — 

Verse  11.  "  Then  I  looked  on  all  the  works  that  my 


ECCLES.  II.  1  —  11.  65 

hands  had  wrought,  and  on  the  labour  that  I  had  la- 
boured to  do  :  and  behold,  ail  was  vanity  and  vexation 
of  spirit;  and  there  was  no  profit  under  the  sun." — 
Strange !  Was  there  not  every  thing  in  his  lot  that  his 
heart  could  wish  ?  Yes  :    he  had  "  withheld  his  heart 
from  no  joy."  But  alas  !  every  earthly  pleasure,  when 
unconnected  with  better  blessings,  must  leave  a  void. 
It  palls  upon  the  appetite  for  happiness,  and  leaves  it 
as  eager  and  unsatisfied  as  before.  The  question  is  still 
fretfully  repeated,  "  Who  will  show  us  any  good  ?" 
After  all  Solomon's  labour,   "  his  eye  was  not  satisfied 
"with  seeing,  nor  his  ear  filled  with  hearing."  And  when 
he  thus  felt  the  result  of  all  to  be   •='  vanity,"  as  to  the 
production   of  true  and  lasting  happiness ;  this    very 
feeling  was,  of  itself,  quite  sufficient  to  render  all  "  vexa- 
tion of  spirit."     Nothing  could  well  be  more  mortify- 
ing.   He  resembled  a  man,  who  has  set  about  construct- 
ing a  machine  for  some  particular  purpose,  complicated 
and  intricate,  the  result,  in  the  idea,  of  long  and  close 
application  of  inventive  genius,   and  requiring,  in  the 
execution,  a  great  expenditure  of  skill,  and  time,  and 
patient  labour.  While  the  work  is  in  progress,  his  mind 
is  full  of  it.    He  has  no  doubt  he  will  be  able  to  make 
it  answer :— and  the  confidence  of  succeeding  animates 
him  to  vigorous  perseverance,  and  keeps  him  in  fine 
spirits. — At  length,  it  is  completed ;  and  he  finds,  to 
his  unspeakable  mortification,  that  it  will  not  do.     In 
theory  it  was  ingenious,  and  seemingly  perfect  in  its 
adaptation  to  the  end.  But  when  tried  in  practice,  there 
is  some  unanticipated  defect ;  and  possibly  he  cannot 
discover  where  it  lies^     *'  All  is  now  vanity  and  vexa- 
tion  of  spirit ;  and  there  is  no  profit  to  him  of  all  his 
labour." — Such  was  the  nature,  and  such  the  success, 
of  Solomon's  experiment  for  the  procuring  of  happi- 
I 


66  LECTURE  III. 

ness.  When  his  labour  was  ended,  he  had  only  to  sigh 
over  its  results.  He  very  soon  tired  of  looking  at  what 
was  finished,  and  of  hearing  what  he  had  heard  before; 
And  besides  the  feeling  of  immediate  unsatisfactori- 
ness,  the  galling  reflection,  as  he  informs  us  in  a  sub- 
sequent part  of  this  chapter,  forced  itself  upon  his 
mind,  and  fretted,  and  mortified,  and  disgusted  him, 
that  in  a  very  short  time  all  must  be  left  behind  him ; 
and  left  too,  he  could  not  tell  to  whom,  whether  to  a 
wise  man  or  a  fool. 

From  this  passage  we  may  observe,  in  the  first  place : 
It  is  a  radical,  but  very  prevalent  mistake  as  to  happi- 
ness, when  men  conceive  of  it  as  arising  from  situation. 
—Under  the  influence  of  this  mistake,  how  often  do 
men,  finding  something  awanting  in  a  particular  con- 
dition or  employment,  immediately  betake  themselves 
to  another,  and  thence  to  another,  and  another,  the  same 
feeding  of  dissatisfaction  attending  them  successively 
in  each  ;  from  their  not  considering,  that  it  is  not  in 
the  nature  of  earthly  things,  however  varied  and  modi- 
fied, to  be  a  portion  to  the  human  mind,  and  from  their 
not  being  aware,  that  they  are  all  the  while  carrying 
about  the  root  and  cause  of  dissatisfdction  in  their  own 
bosoms.  Here  lies  the  unsuspected  evil : — here  the  se- 
cret spring  of  bitterness.  Men  engaged  in  the  pursuit 
of  worldly  happiness,  changing  incessantly  from  one 
pursuit  to  another,  trying  every  likely  resource,  resem- 
ble a  person  in  a  fever,  who  in  every  posture  to  which 
he  can  turn  himself,  feels  uneasy,  and  is  ever  fancying 
that  another  change  will  make  him  comfortable,  insen- 
sible that  the  uneasiness  of  whi^  he  complains  has  its 
origin  in  his  distemper  itself,  and  cannot  be  relieved  by 
mere  position. — The  radical  principle  of  happiness  must 
be  carried  about  within  us^  else  we  shall  infallibly  fail 
of  satisfaction  in  every  trial  we  can  make  of  earthly  good. 


ECCLES.  11.   1 — ^11.  67 

In  the  second  place  :  let  it  not  be  supposed  that  there 
is  no  such  thing  to  be  found  as  true  satisfaction, — real 
and  substantial  happiness. 

This  would  be  a  very  hasty,  and  a  very  false  conclu- 
sion. There  is  such  a  thing,-— blessed  be  the  gracious 
Author  of  our  being ! — there  ?s  such  a  thing  to  be 
found,  as  solid  and  heart-satisfying  enjoyment.  It  is 
not  indeed  to  be  derived  from  the  sources  to  which  So- 
lomon betook  himself  in  "  the  days  of  his  vanity." — 
He  sought  it  in  "  mirth  and  laughter."  But  it  has 
often  been  truly  observed,  that  the  objects  at  which  we 
laugh  loudest  are  not  the  objects  which  yield  us  the 
greatest  delight.  The  purest  kinds,  and  the  highest  de- 
grees, of  this  feeling,  are  more  frequently  expressed  by 
tears,  than  by  laughter.  How  often  has  the  truth  of  the 
saying  formerly  adverted  to  been  experienced  by  others 
as  well  as  Solomon, — that  "  even  in  laughter  the  heart 
is  sad,  and  that  the  end  of  that  mirth  is  heaviness  1" 
^'  True  joy  is  a  serious  thing."*— As  little  as  the  ob- 
ject of  universal  search  to  be  found,  in  the  varieties  of 
sensual  indulgence,  or  the  pomp,  and  pride,  and  luxury 
of  life,  and  the  splendours  of  ambitious  and  busy  roy- 
alty. In  these  too,  Solomon  sought  it  in  vain.  Many 
things  may  be  accessories  to  happiness  ;  but  "  one 
thing  is  needful."  The  true  secret  of  it  is,  livifjg  to 
God ; — enjoying  God  in  all  things,  and  all  things  in 
Him.  This  is  at  once  the  pure  and  the  sublime  of 
enjoyment.  Ever  vain  and  fruitless  must  the  pursuit 
of  happiness  be,  apart  from  the  favour  and  the  service 
of  God.  He  must  enter  into  all  that  merits  the  name  of 
true  felicity  to  a  rational  creature.    He  is  the  fountain 

*  The  sentiment,  I  think,  is  Addison's :  but  I  am  not  sure  in  my  recollection, 
Khere  in  his  writings  it  occurs, 


tj8  i^ECTURE  III. 

of  all  joy :  and  the  streams  are  truly  sweet,  only  as  they 
ta^te  of  the  fountain.  '*  O  God,  thou  (art)  my  God  5 
early  will  I  seek  thee :  my  soul  thirsteth  for  thee,  my 
Hesh  longeth  for  thee,  in  a  dry  and  thirsty  land,  where 
no  water  is  ;  to  see  thy  power  and  thy  glory,  ^o  (as)  I 
have  seen  thee  in  the  sanctuary.  Because  thy  loving, 
kindness  (is)  better  than  life,  my  lips  shall  praise  thee. 
Thus  will  I  bless  thee  while  I  live ;  I  will  lift  up  my 
hands  in  thy  name.  My  soul  shall  be  satisfied  as  (widi) 
marrow  and  fatness;  and  my  mouth  shall  praise  (thee) 
with  joyful  lips  ;  when  I  remember  thee  upon  my  bed, 
(and)  meditate  on  thee  in  the  (night) -watches."  This 
is  the  *'  good  old  wine"  which  once  made  Solomon's 
heart,  as  well  as  David's  glad.  He  "  tasted  new  :"— 
but  he  was  brought  at  length,  by  dear-bought  bu» 
happy  experience,  to  say,  "  The  old  is  better." 

"  Live  while  ye  live !  the  sensualist  may  say. 
And  catch  the  pleasures  of  the  passing  day. 
Live  while  ye  live  !  the  holy  man  replies. 
And  give  to  God  each  moment  as  it  flies. 
Lord,  in  my  life  let  both  united  be  ! 
1  live  in  pleasure,  when  I  live  to  tiiee !" 

In  the  third  place :  Let  this  passage  repress  in  every 
bosom,  the  feelings  of  envy. 

The  poor,  when  they  read  such  a  description  as  these 
verses  contain,— of  houses,  and  vineyards,  and  gardens, 
and  orchards,  and  lakes,  and  woods ;  and  servants,  and 
cattle,  and  silver  and  gold,  and  royal  jewels,  and  music, 
and  all  the  '^  delights  of  the  sons  of  men;"— are  ready 
to  feel  the  rising  emotions  of  jealousy,  and  to  heave 
the  sigh  of  envious  discontent  over  their  own  condi- 
tion. They  mistake  this  glare  of  magnificence,  this 
outward  semblance  of  enjoyment,  for  true  happiness. 
But  the  antidote  to  all  such  feelings,  my  friends,  is  be- 
fore vou.  Read  on,  Pass  from  the  detail  of  abundance 


ECCLES.  II.   1 11.  69 

and  splendour,  to  the  estimate  subsequently  formed  of 
it  all,  by  the  owner  himself:—"  Then  I  looked  on  all* 
the  works  that  my  hands  had  wrought,  and  on  the  la- 
bour that  I  had  laboured  to  do :  and,  behold,  all  was,' 
vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit ;  and  there  was  no  profit 
under  the  sun!"  Banish,  then,  your  envy.  Deceive  not 
yourselves  with  the  fancy,  that  Solomon's  disappoint- 
ment might  not  be  yours.  Be  assured,  you  would  fare 
no  better  than  he.  The  same  experiment  wotild  yield 
the  same  result  to  you,  as  it  did  to  him,  and  as  it  has 
done  to  many  more,  who  have  foolishly  ventured  to 
repeat  it.— Be  not  **  envious,  then,  at  the  foolish,  when 
you  see  the  prosperity  of  the  wicked."  '^  Be  not  thou 
afraid,  when  one  is  made  rich,  when  the  glory  of  his 
house  is  increased :  for  when  he  dieth  he  shall  carry- 
nothing  away  ;  his  glory  shall  not  descend  after  him  : 
though  while  he  lived  he  blessed  his  soul,  (and  men 
will  praise  thee,  when  thou  doest  well  to  thyself,)  he 
shall  go  to  ihe  generation  of  his  fathers ;  they  shall' 
never  see  light.  Man  that  is  in  honour,  and  under- 
standeth  not,  is  like  the  beasts  that  perish." — Let  your 
minds,  then,  be  settled,  my  brethren,  in  the  truth  of  the 
apostolic  aphorism,  *'  godliness  with  contentment  is 
great  gain.  For  we  brought  nothing  into  this  world  ', 
and  it  is  certain  we  can  carry  nothing  out.  Having, 
therefore,  food  and  raiment,  let  us  be  therewith  con- 
tent."-- 'If  you  are  "  rich  in  faith,  and  heirs  of  the  king- 
dom which  God  hath  provided  for  them  that  love  him,*' 
envy  may  well  be  a  stranger  to  your  bosoms.  *'  Let  the 
brother  of  low  degree  rejoice  in  that  he  is  exalted,  but 
the  rich  in  that  he  is  made  low  :  because  as  the  flower 
of  the  grass  he  shall  pass  away.  For  the  sun  is  no 
sooner  risen  with  a  burning  heat,  than  it  withereth  the 
grass,  and  the  flower  thereof  falleth,  and  the  grace  of 


70  LBOTURE  III. 

the  fashion  of  it  perisheth :  so  also  shall  the  rich  man 
fade  away  in  his  ways."* 

Lastly :  Let  my  hearers  *^  suffer  the  word  of  exhor- 
tation," from  the  lips  of  the  Saviour  himself: — <'  Lay 
not  up  for  yourselves  treasures  on  earth,  where  moth 
and  rust  corrupt,  and  where  thieves  break  through  and 
steal : — but  lay  up  for  yourselves  treasures  in  heaven, 
where  neither  moth  nor  rust  doth  corrupt,  and  where 
thieves  do  not  break  through  nor  steal : — for  where  your 
treasure  is,  there  will  your  hearts  be  also."t — Seek  not 
your  happiness  in  riches,  nor  in  any  thing  which  riches 
can  procure.  It  were  puerile  affectation,  or  unscripturai 
cant,  to  undervalue  and  vilify  them ;  or  to  refuse  to  ad- 
mit the  desirableness  of  many  of  the  blessings  which 
they  put  in  their  possessor's  power.  But  still,  neither 
they  themselves,  nor  all  they  can  enable  you  to  obtain, 
must  be  your  happiness, — yonr  portion.  You  must  seek 
'^  a  better  and  more  enduringsubstance. "  "  The  grounds 
of  a  certain  rich  man  brought  forth  plentifully  :  and  he 
thought  within  himself,  saying,  What  shall  I  do,  be^ 
cause  I  have  no  room  where  to  bestow  my  fruits  ?  And 
he  said,  This  will  I  do  :  I  will  pull  down  my  barns, 
and  build  greater  ;  and  there  will  I  bestow  all  my  fruits 
and  my  goods.  And  I  will  say  to  my  soul,  Soul,  thou 
hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years  ;  take  thine 
ease,  eat,  drink,  (and)  be  merry.  But  God  said  unto 
him,  (Thou)  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required 
df  thee  ;  then  whose  shall  those  things  be  which  thou 
hast  provided  ?  So  (is)  he  that  layeth  up  treasure  for 
himself,  and  is  not  rich  towards  God" 

One  might  have  looked  on  all  Solomon's    "  great 
works,"  and  splendid  buildings,  and  varied  and  accu- 
mulated magnificence,  and  have  said,  The  possessor  of 
'  James  i.  9.— 11.  t  Matt.  vi.  19-21. 


ECCLES.  TI.   1—11.  71 

all  these  may  die  to  day :— this  night  his  soul  may  be 
required  of  him  ;■— and  then,  "  Whose  shall  these  things 
.be  ?"— No  longer  his .— "  When  he  dieth,  he  shall  carry 
nothing  away  :'*— and  if  this  is  his  all,— if  he  possesses 
nothing  more  permanent,  no  "  durable  riches  and  righ- 
teousness," no  ^'  house  not  made  with  hands  eternal 
in  the  heavens,"  no  *'  inheritance  incorruptible  and  un- 
defiled  and  that  fadeth  not  away  ;" — wo  is  me  for  the 
foolish  man !— he  has  "  laid  up  treasure  for  himself,"  but 
he  is  not  *'  rich  towards  God."  The  language  of  the 
Saviour  to  his  poor  people,  "  I  know  thy  poverty,  but 
thou  art  rich,"  may  well  be  reversed  to  this  victim  of 
a  pitiable  and  ruinous  delusion,  "  I  know  thy  riches,— 
but  thou  art  poor!" 

Compare  the  description  of  Solomon's  splendour 
with  that  of  the  '^  city  which  hath  foundations,  whose 
builder  and  maker  is  God!" — the  city  which  he  hath 
*•=  prepared"  for  all  his  people,  who  "  embrace  his  pro- 
mises, and  confess  themselves  strangers  and  pilgrims 
on  the  earth  :"— **  the  holy  city,  the  new  Jerusalem ;" 
of  which  the  foundations  and  walls  are  of  precious 
stones,  the  gates  of  pearl,  and  the  streets  "  of  pure 
gold,  as  it  were  transparent  glass  ;"  which  is  guarded 
by  angels ;  of  which  ^*  the  Lord  God  Almighty  and 
the  Lamb  are  the  temple;"  which  *^has  no  need  of 
the  sun,  neither  of  the  moon  to  shine  in  it,  for  the 
glory  of  God  doth  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  is  the 
light  thereof;"  where  there  shall  be  no  more  night, 
and  no  more  curse,  but  eternal  unclouded  day,  and 
everlasting  and  unmingled  blessing!* — Remember,  my 
brethren,  that  the  m^eanest  saint  on  earth  is  a  citizen 
of  this  heavenly  Qiiy,  and  has  a  part  in  all  this  glory.— 
The  "  great  buildings"  on  which  the  king  of  Israel 

'  See  Rev.  xtj.  10—27,  xxii.  1-5. 


7^  liECTURE  lil. 

expended  so  much  wealth,  and  skill,  and  labour,  have 
long  since  fallen  to  ruin,  and  crumbled  to  dust ;  and 
so,  in  succession,  do  all  the  monuments  of  earthly- 
grandeur  : — 

"  We  build  with  what  we  deem  eternal  rock  :-— 
A  distant  age  asks  where  the  fabric  stood  ; 
And  in  the  dust,  sifted  and  search'd  in  vain, 
The  undiscoverable  secret  sleeps." 

But  the  structures  of  the  Divine  Architect  shall  never 
experience  decay  ;  their  glory  shall  never  "tarnish  ;  their 
riches  shall  never  be  plundered  ;  their  blessed  inhabi- 
tants shall  never  be  wasted  by  death,  or  scattered  by- 
hostile  invasion. 

The  gardens  and  groves  and  pleasure-grounds  of 
Solomon  might  be  called  by  men  an  earthly  paradise  :•— 
but   it  was  a  paradise  of  sweets  that  soon  cloyed,  and 
failed  to  yield  to  their  possessor  the  anticipated  delight ; 
—atid  like  every  thing  earthly,  it  has  passed  away.  His 
was  the  ^'  time  to  plant;"  and  there  came  a  time  after 
him,  "  to  pluck  up  that  which  was  planted."    But  the 
paradise  above,  where  flows  the  ^'  pure  river  of  water 
of  life,  clear  as  chrystal,  proceeding  out  of  the  throne  of 
God  and  of  the  Lamb,"  is  a  scene  of  delights,  as^un- 
fading  as  they  are  pure  and  exquisite,— delights,  that 
always  satisfy  and  never  satiate ;   delights  that  shall 
be  new  through  eternity, — continued  enjoyment  only 
stimulating  the  appetite,  and  enhancing  the  relish.  Envy 
not,  then,  the  possessor  of  the  richest  and  loveliest  in- 
heritance on  earth.  You  have  a  better  inheritance  above. 
"  To  him  that  overcometh,  will  I  give  to  eat  of  the  Tree 
of  life,  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  paradise  of  God." 
It  is  only  through  Jesus  Christ  that  this  final  glory 
and  blessedness  can  be  obtained.  It  is  by  him  that  the 
way  to  the  Tree  of  life  has  been  opened,  and  "  paradise 


ECCLES.  II.   1 11.  ^3 

regained."  The  heavenly  city  has  been  reared  in  all  its 
purity  and  splendour,  for  the  habitation  of  his  subjects  t 
—the  "  everlasting  inheritance''  is  prepared  in  his  name, 
and  bestowed  for  his  sake ;  bestowed  on  all  who  are 
justified  by  his  blood,  and  renewed  and  sanctified  by 
his  Holy  Spirit.  It  is  ^'  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in 
light ;"  and  sinful  creatures  are  not  "  made  meet  for 
it"  till  they  are  pardoned  and  purified.  The  city, 
"  whose  builder  and  maker  is  God,"  is  a  "  holy  city;" 
**  and  into  it  nothing  shall  enter,  that  defileth,  or  that 
worketh  abomination,  or  maketh  a  lie  ;  but  they  only 
who  are  written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of  life."* — Seek, 
then,  my  fellow-sinners,  an  interest  in  him.  Believe  his 
testimony ;  follow  his  footsteps ;  ^'  live  by  the  faith  of 
the  Son  of  God;"  *^  no  longer  to  yourselves,  but  to 
him  who  died  for  sinners  and  rose  again."  Let  his  grace 
be  the  ground  of  your  hope ;  his  example  your  pattern ; 
his  glory  your  end  ;  his  love  your  motive  ;  his  promi- 
ses your  encouragement.  Thus  let  it  be  your  desire, 
that  *^  whether  you  live  you  may  live  to  the  Lord,  or 
whether  you  die  you  may  die  to  the  Lord ;  that  living 
and  dying  you  may  be  the  Lord's."  And  then,  what= 
ever  may  be  your  condition  here,  whether  rich  and  ho- 
noured as  Solomon,  or  poor  and  despised  as  Lazarus, 
you  shall  be  '^  heirs  of  God,  and  joint-heirs  with 
Christ." — "  Blessed  are  they  that  do  his  command- 
ments, that  they  may  have  right  to  the  tree  of  life,  and 
may  enter  in  through  the  gates  into  the  city."t 

*  Rev.  x\\.  27.  t  Rev.srJi.l4. 


K 


LECTURE  IV. 


EccLES.  ii.  12 — 2Q. 

12  ■"  ^nd  I  turned  myself  to  behold  nvisdom,  and  madness,  and  Jolly  t 
for  tvhat  (can)  the  man  (do J  that  cometh  after  the  king?  (even J 

13  that  which  hath  been  already  done.  Then  I  saw  that  wisdom  excell- 

14  eth  folly t  as  far  as  light  excelleth  darkness.  The  wise  man's  eyes 
(are  J  in  his  head  ;  but  the  fool  walketh  in  darkness  :  and  I  myself 

15  fterceived  also  that  one  event  hapfieneth  to  them  all.  Thni  said  I  in 
my  heart.  As  it  hafifieneth  to  the  fool,  so  it  hafifieneth  even  to  me  ;  and 
why  was  I  then  more  wise?  Then  I  said  in  my  heart,  that  this  also 

16  (is  J  vanity.  For  (there  is  J  no  remembrance  of  the  wise  more  than 
of  the  fool  for  ever  ;  seeing  that  which  now  (is,  J  in  the  days  to  come 
shall  all  be  forgotten  :  and  how  dieth  the  wise  (man  ? )  as  the  fool. 

VI  Therefore  I  hated  life  ;  because  the  work  that  is  wrought  under  the 
sun  (is)  grievous  unto  me:  for  all  (is)  vanity  and  vexation  of 

18  sfiirit.  Yea,  I  hated  all  my  labour  which  I  had  taken  under  the  sun  ; 

19  because  I  should  leaveit  unto  the  man  that  shall  be  after  me.  And  who 
knowethwhether  he  shall  be  a  wise  (man  J  or  a  fool  ?  yetshallye  have 
ride  overall  my  labour  wherein  I  have  laboured,  and  wherein  I  have 

20  showed  myself  wise  under  the  sun.  This  (is)  also  vanity.  There- 
fore I  went  about  to  cause  my  heart  to  desfiair  of  all  the  labour  which 

21  I  took  under  the  sun.  For  there  is  a  man  whose  labour  (is)  in  wis- 
dom, and  in  knowledge,  a7id  in  equity  ;  yet  to  a  man  that  hath  not 
laboured  therein  shall  he  leave  it  (for)  his  Jicrtion.    This  also  (is J 

22  vanity,  and  a  great  evil.  For  what  hath  a  man  of  all  his  labour,  and 
of  the  vexation  of  his  heart,  wherein  he  hath  laboured  under  the 

23  sun?  For  all  his  days  (are)  sorrows,  and  his  travail  grief  ;  yea,  his 
34  heart  taketh  not  rest  in  the  night.    This  is  also  vanity.    (Inhere  is  J 

nothing  better  for  a  man,  (than)  that  he  should  eat  and  drink, and 
Cthat)  he  should  make  his  soul  enjoy  good  in  his  labour.  This  also  I 

25  saw,  that  it  (was)  from  the  hand  of  God.  For  who  can  eat,  or  who 

26  else  can  hasten  (hereunto,)  more  than  I?  For  (  God  J  giveth  to  a 
man  that  (is  J  good  in  his  sight  wisdom,  and  knowledge,  and  joy  : 
but  to  the  sinner  he  giveth  travail,  to  gather,  and  to  heap,  up,  that 
he  may  give  to  (him  that  is)  good  before  God  This  also  (is) 
vanity  a?id  vexation  of  spirit,'" 

00000        ' 

OoLOMON  had  now  made  trial  of  human  wisdom  and 
science^  as  an  independent  source  of  enjoyment ;  of 


ECCLES.  II.   IS 26.  75 

madness  and  folly, — thoughtless  dissipation  and  mirth  ; 
and  of  the  luxuries  and  elegances,  and  other  pleasures^ 
of  riches  and  royalty.  He  had  tried  them  separately ; 
and  he  had  tried  them  together:  and  on  all  of  them  he 
had  pronounced  the  verdict  which  he  has  here  recorded, 
©f  "  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit.'* 

This  trial,  besides,  had  been  made  very  completely, 
and  with  every  possible  advantage  for  its  yielding  the 
desired  result : — "  for  what  can  the  man  do  that  cometh 
after  the  king?  even  that  which  hath  been  already  done.'' 
- — Possessing  "a  wise  and  understandmg  heart,"  no 
man  could  surpass  him  in  extent  and  variety  of  know- 
ledge, or  could  prove  the  failure  of  his  experiment  upon 
it,  to  have  been  the  consequence  of  limited  and  super- 
ficial information,  and  his  unfavourable  verdict  there- 
fore mistaken  and  false  : — and,  exceeding  in  wealth  and 
magnificence  all  the  monarchs  that  had  preceded  him 
in  the  throne  of  Israel,  and  all  the  contemporaneous 
princes  of  the  surrounding  nations,— having  thus  fully 
in  his  power  the  means  of  obtaining  every  gratification 
of  sense  which  his  heart  could  desire,  and  unrestrained 
in  his  indulgences  by  the  example  or  by  the  fear  of  su- 
periors ;  by  no  man  could  the  trial  be  more  effectually 
made  than  it  was  by  him,  of  "  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and 
the  pride  of  life."  He  might  be  imitated,  but  he  could 
hardly  be  excelled. 

But  from  what  he  had  said  it  might  appear  to  some, 
as  if  he  considered  all  the  things  of  which  he  had  been 
speaking,  as  on  the  same  footing  of  inefficiency  and 
worthlessness ; — all  equally  vain,  and  equally  vexatious^ 
— This,  however,  would  be  a  great  mistake.  Earthly 
wisdom  he  had  indeed  affirmed  to  be  "  vanity  and  vex- 
ation of  spirit,"  considered  as  constituting  the  happiness 
of  man, — ^the  portion  of  an  immortal  creature ;  and 


79  LECTURE  IV. 

madness  and  folly  he  had  included  in  the  same  verdict. 
But  it  by  no  means  follows,  that  in  his  estimate  they 
were  equally  so. — In  the  twelfth  verse,  he  "  returns"  to 
contemplate  the  two,  and  to  compare  them ;— to  view 
them,  not  each  distinctly,  but  relatively  to  each  other; 
not  their  respective  claims  to  be  acknowledged  as  the 
chief  good,  but  simply  their  comparative  titles  to  hu- 
man estimation  and  pursuit : — 

Verses  12,  13.  "  And  I  turned  myself,  to  behold  wis- 
dom, and  madness,  and  folly :  for  what  can  the  man 
do  that  Cometh  after  the  king  ?  even  that  which  hath 
been  already  done.  Then  I  saw  that  wisdom  excelleth 
folly,  as  far  as  light  excelleth  darkness." 

For  the  reason  assigned,  and  on  which  we  have  briefly 
touched,  namely,  that  his  own  experiment,  on  both 
sides  of  the  question,  was  the  completest  that  could  be 
made;  after  having  pushed  it  in  each  direction,  to  its 
utmost  limits,  he  '*  turns  himself"  to  look  back  on  what 
he  had  passed  through  ;  he  stops  to  reflect ;  he  puts  the 
two  things  in  the  balance  against  each  other ;  and  in 
verse  13th  he  gives  his  deliberate  decision  :—"  then  I 
saw,  that  wisdom  excelleth  folly,  as  far  as  light  excel- 
leth darkness." 

It  is  evidently  of  the  same  kind  of  wisdom  that  he 
here  continues  to  speak.  It  is  not  a  declaration  of  the 
satisfying  and  unrivalled  excellence  of  spiritual,  hea- 
venly. Divine  wisdom,  but  of  the  vast  superiority  even 
of  human  science,  of  the  wisdom  of  earth,  above  igno- 
rant and  thoughtless  folly.  Although  in  itself  far  from 
sufficient  to  be  the  portion,  the  happiness,  of  such  a 
creature  as  man ;  because  it  is  not  only  accompanied  in 
the  acquisition  a(nd  possession  of  it,  with  a  variety  of 
peculiar  griefs  and  sorrows,  but  it  embraces  not  the 
Itivour  of  God,  and  leaves  unprovided-for  the  interests 


ECCLES.  II.  ±2 — 26.  77 

of  the  immortal  soul ;  yet  it  excels  ignorance  and  folly 
'•  as  far  as  light  excelleth  darkness." — With  light  we 
invariably, — I  might  almost  say  instinctively, — asso- 
ciate the  ideas  of  security,  and  order,  and  cheerfulness ; 
and  with  darkness  the  opposite  ideas,  of  danger,  and 
confusion,  and  melancholy.  Wisdom  excels  folly  in  its 
own  nature  ;  the  furnishing  of  the  mind  with  know- 
ledge being  evidently  much  more  accordant  with  the 
character  and  dignity  of  a  rational  creature,  than  leav- 
ing it  empty,  unimproved,  and  waste,  dissipating  its 
powers,  and  degrading  its  exalted  capacities,  in  incon- 
siderate  mirth  and  revelry,  or  in  mere  sensual  and  ani- 
mal  gratifications.  The  pursuits  of  human  science,  al- 
though we  pity  the  man  who  is  destitute  of  the  purer 
and  sublimer  joys  of  true  religion,  are  yet  productive 
of  pleasures,  high  in  order,  and  exquisite  in  degree. 
And  the  superior  excellence  of  such  wisdom  is  further 
apparent,  from  the  counsel  and  direction  which  it  affords 
to  its  possessor  in  all  the  affairs  of  daily  life, — the  good 
which  it  enables  him  to  acquire,  and  the  evil  which  it 
teaches  him  to  avoid.  Hence  it  is  added, 

Verse  14.  "  The  wise  man's  eyes  are  in  his  head, 
but  the  fool  walketh  in  darkness :  and  I  myself  per- 
ceived  also,  that  one  event  happeneth  to  them  all." 

Wisdom  possesses  the  same  advantage  over  folly, 
that  sight  does  over  blindness.  The  wise  man  is  like 
a  person  who  has  his  eyes  in  a  sound  state,  and  has 
light  at  the  same  time  to  use  them.  The  fool,  on  the 
contrary,  resembles  the  man  who  is  either  destitute  of 
the  organs  of  vision,  or  to  whom  surrounding  darkness 
renders  them  unavailing.  The  man  of  wisdom,  having 
all  his  wits  about  him,  in  the  full  possession  and  the 
appropriate  exercise  of  all  his  faculties,  "  guides  his 
sffairs  with  discretioji,"  looks  before  him,  thinks  ma- 


78  LECTURE  IV. 

turely  of  what  he  is  doing,  and  by  his  knowledge  of 
men  and  things,  is  directed  to  the  adoption  of  plans 
which  promise  to  be  profitable,  and  to  the  prudent  and 
successful  prosecution  of  them.  He  ^'  foreseeth  the 
evil,  and  hideth  himself."  He  aims  at  worthy  ends,  and 
employs  suitable  means  for  their  accomplishment.  But 
the  fool, — the  ignorant  and  inconsiderate  and  improvi- 
dent nian, — is  continually  in  danger  of  stumbling,  or 
of  going  astray,  like  a  person  overtaken  by  darkness, 
who  "knovveth  not  whither  he  goeth."  He  is  ever 
prone  to  run  blindly  and  heedlessly  into  absurd  and  in- 
jurious projects,  or  to  destroy  such  as  are  in  themselves 
good,  by  blundering  in  the  execution  of  them.  The 
fool's  eyes,  it  is  elsewhere  said,  are  *^  in  the  ends  of  the 
earth,"  roaming  vainly  and  idly  abroad,  without  serving 
his  present  and  needful  purposes; — gazing,  as  the  or- 
gans of  a  vacant  mind,  on  far  off  objects,  and  allowing 
him  to  stumble  over  what  is  immediately  in  his  way. 
Without  foresight  to  anticipate  probable  evils,  without 
even  sagacity  to  avoid  such  as  are  present,  the  fool  is 
in  perpetual  hazard  of  injuring  and  ruining  both  him- 
self, and  all  who  are  so  unfortunate  as  to  stand  con^ 
nected  with  him,  or  to  be  exposed  to  his  influence. 

Yet,  whilst  Solomon  was  not  insensible  to  the  pecu- 
liar  and  eminent  advantages  of  wisdom  over  folly,  there 
were,  at  the  same  time,  some  particulars  in  which  the 
wise  man  and  the  fool  stood  entirely  on  a  level :  and  the 
recollection  and  contemplation  of  these  galled  and  mor- 
tified his  spirit,  and  prevented  his  .deriving  from  his 
trial  of  wisdom  even  that  measure  of  enjoyment,  which 
it  was  fitted  in  its  nature  to  bestow.  It  is  in  this  temper 
of  mind  that  he  adds,  in  the  remainder  of  this,  and  in 
the  two  following  verses  :  — 

'•  And"  (or  yet)  "  I  myself  perceived,  that  one  eyent 


ECCLES.  n.  12 — S6.  79 

happeneth  to  them  all.  Then  said  I  in  ray  heart,  As  it 
happeneth  to  the  fool,  so  it  happeneth  even  to  me  ;  and 
why  was  1  then  more  wise  ?  Then  I  said  in  my  heart, 
that  this  also  is  vanity.  For  there  is  no  remembrance  of 
the  v\  ise  more  than  of  the  fool  for  ever ;  seeing  that 
which  now  is,  in  the  days  to  come  shall  all  be  forgotten. 
And  how  dieth  the  wise  man?  as  the  fool." 

The  expression,  *'  one  event  happeneth  to  them  all," 
refers,  not  merely  to  the  life  of  all  coming  to  the  same 
termination,  but  to  the  indiscriminate  administration  of 
Divine  providence,  in  regard  to  temporal  things,  and 
the  similarity  of  its  general  aspect  towards  good  and 
bad,  towards  wise  and  foolish.  It  is  the  same  sentiment 
which  is  afterwards  more  fully  stated  in  the  beginning 
of  the  ninth  chapter :  *•  For  all  this,  I  considered  in  my 
heart,  even  to  declare  all  this,  that  the  righteous  and  the 
wise,  and  their  works,  (are)  in  the  hand  of  God  :  no 
man  knoweth  either  love  or  hatred  (by)  all  (that  is)  be- 
fore them.  All  (things  come)  alike  to  all :  (there  is)  one 
event  to  the  righteous  and  to  the  wicked ;  to  the  good, 
and  to  the  clean,  and  to  the  unclean ;  to  him  that  sacri- 
ficeth,  and  to  him  that  sacrificeth  not :  as  (is)  the  good, 
so  (is)  the  sinner ;  (and)  he  that  sweareth,  as  (he)  that 
feareth  an  oath.  This  (is)  an  evil  among  all  (things)  that 
are  done  under  the  sun,  that  (there  is)  one  event  unto 
all :  yea,  also  the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  full  of  evil, 
and  madness  (is)  in  their  heart  while  they  live,  and  after 
that  (they  go)  to  the  dead." 

When  v.-e  come  to  this  passage,  we  shall  have  a  more 
proper  opportunity  for  considering  particularly  this  view 
of  the  Divine  providence ;  a  view,  which  at  one  time, 
you  know,  so  agitated  and  unhinged  the  mind  of  the 
Psalmist  Asaph,  as  almost  to  unsettle  his  confidence  in 
the  government,  and  the  very  existence,  of  the  Divine 


80  LECTURE  IV. 

Being.  His  feet  ivere  almost  gone,  his  steps  had  well 
nigh  slipped :  he  was  envious  at  the  foolish,  when 
amidst  all  their  rebellious  forgetfulness  of  God  and  pre-^ 
sumptuous  impiety,  their  singular  prosperity  met  his 
view,  and  was  contrasted  with  the  remarkable  distresses 
of  himself  and  others  of  God's  people. 

I  have  said,  the  two  passages  express  the  same  sen- 
timent. Perhaps  this  is  scarcely  correct.  There  is  one 
essential  difference  between  them.  In  the  verses  before 
us,  it  is  not  the  case  of  the  good  and  bad,  the  righteous 
and  wicked,  that  is  spoken  of,  but  rather  of  the  wise 
and  foolish;  wisdom  and  folly  being  understood  in  re- 
ference  to  the  knowledge  of  earthly  science,  and  to  the 
concerns  of  time  and  of  the  present  world. — The  wise, 
with  all  their  Information,  and  all-their  sagacity,  cannot, 
any  more  than  the  fool,  control  the  course  of  providence. 
They  are  subject,  in  common  with  the  weak,  and  igno- 
rant, and  short-sighted,  to  all  the  diversified  diseases, 
calamities,  disappointments,  and  anxities  of  life.  This 
Solomon  had  seen  in  the  experience  of  others,  and  had 
also  felt  in  his  own ;  and  it  filled  him  with  impatience 
and  fretfulness  : — "  then  said  I  in  my  heart,  As  it  hap- 
peneth  to  the  fool,  so  it  happeneth  even  to  me;  and 
why  was  I,  then,  more  wise?" 

"  Why  was  I  more  wise  ?" — Why  !  How  apparently 
unreasonable  and  capricious  the  question !  Had  he  not 
just  affirmed,  that  "  wisdom  excelleth  folly  as  far  as 
light  excelleth  darkness  ?"  Was  there,  then,  no  advan- 
tage ip  the  possession  of  wisdom  ? — Ah  !  my  friends, 
this  language  affectingly  shows  the  unsatisfactoriness  of 
all  earthly  sources  of  enjoyment ;  and  the  tendency  of 
the  human  heart,  when  confined,  in  its  desires  and 
relishes,  to  such  sources  alone,  to  discontent,  and  mur- 
njuring.    True,  there  were  some  points  in  which  the 


ECCLES.  II.  12 — 36.  8£ 

wise  man  excelled  the  fool ;  but  then,  there  were  others 
in  which  he  was  nowise  his  superior :  in  which  both 
were  perfectly  on  a  level ;  and  these  were  of  such  a  na- 
ture that  the  mortitlcation  arising  from  the  equality 
more  than  neutralized,  in  Solomon's  estimation,  the 
advantage  arising  from  the  superiority.  This  bitter 
spoiled  the  sweet  of  all  its  relish  ;  so  that  he  **  said  in 
his  heart,"  with  fretful  disappointment,  "  This  also  is 
vanity." 

One  of  the  points  of  equality,  by  which  his  mind  was 
peculiarly  affected,  was  seen  in  the  latter  end  of  the 
wise  man  and  the  fool,  and  the  forgetfulness  and  indif- 
ference of  posterity  as  to  both  :— "for  there  is  no  re- 
membrance of  the  wise,  more  than  of  the  fool  for  ever ; 
seeing  that  which  now  is,  in  the  days  to  come  shall  all 
be  forgotten  : — and  how  dieth  the  wise  man  ? — as  the 
fool." 

These  words  contain  Solomon's  estimate  of  posthu- 
mous fame.  He  must  be  considered  as  stating  a  general 
truth.  Men,  in  anticipating  futurity,  vainly  assign  to 
themselves,  and  to  one  another,  the  lofty  attribute  of 
immortality.  But  how  is  the  presumptuous  expectation 
disappointed  I  '^  There  is  no  remembrance  for  ever," 
—no  everlasting  remembrance,  however  often,  and 
however  fondly  men  talk  of  it, — "  of  the  wise  man  more 
than  of  the  fool."  The  stream  of  time,  in  a  few  gene- 
rations, carries  down  to  the  gulph  of  oblivion  the  names 
of  both.  It  is  singularly  mortifying  to  reflect,  how  little, 
in  a  very  short  period,  any  man,  however  eminent  may 
have  been  his  reputation  for  wisdom,  is  missed  in  the 
world.  For  a  while,  a  blank  is  felt.  He  is  the  theme  of 
public  praise  ;  and  the  tear  of  regret  is  shed,  and  the 
voice  of  lamentation  is  raised,  over  his  tomb.  But  he 
is  no  sooner  cut  of  sight,  than  he  begins  to  be  out  of 
L 


§2  LECTURE  IV. 

mind.  He  is  less  and  less  spoken  of.  The  world  appears 
to^go  on  without  him,  much  as  it  did  before.  New  ob- 
jects of  attention  and  admiration  arise,  and  the  old  ones 
are  gradually  forgotten.  Of  the  thousands  eminent  in 
their  day,  who  must  have  lived  in  ancient  times,  how 
few  comparatively  are  there,  whose  very  names  have 
come  down  to  us  !— and  even  as  to  those  that  have  beea 
saved  from  the  general  wreck  of  time,  how  very  cir- 
cumscribed is  the  circle  of  their  fame !  By  the  great 
mass  of  human  society,  by  the  immensely  larger  pro- 
portion of  the  population  of  the  world,  they  have  never 
been  heard  of: — their  names,  their  works,  and  their 
sayings,  are  alike  unknown.~The  wisdom  of  Joseph 
saved  the  land  of  Egypt  from  impending  ruin.  Yet 
soon  "another  king  arose,  who  knew  not  Joseph.'* 
Whilst  the  salutary  effects  of  his  counsel  continued  to 
be  permanently  felt,  the  counsel  itself  and  the  man  who 
had  given  it  were  forgotten,  and  were  miserably  re- 
quited;  and  but  for  the  inspired  record  in  the  holy 
Scriptures,  we  should  scarcely,  1  presume,  have  heard 
of  his  name,  even  amongst  the  fables  and  uncertainties, 
and  confused  and  mutilated  facts,  of  remote  tradition. 
—And  of  Solomon  himself,  the  wisest  of  the  wise,  how 
little  could  we  with  certainty  have  known,  had  not  his 
history  been  in  a  similar  manner  recorded,  and  his  in- 
spired writings  preserved ! 

^*  And  how  dieth  the  wise  man?— as  the  fool." — To 
both,  the  event  itself  is  equally  certain  :  the  wise  cannot 
ward  it  off  more  than  the  fool.  The  time  and  the  man- 
ner and  the  circumstances  of  it  are  to  both  equally  un- 
certain :  to  the  wise,  as  to  the  fool,  it  may  be  sudden 
or  lingering,  preceded  and  accompanied  by  the  same 
varieties  of  pain  and  suffering,  both  being  alike  subject 
to  all  those  diseases,  by  which  fallen  humanity  is  af- 


ECCLES.  II.  12 — 36.  83 

fiicted,  and  which  to  all  in  succession  fulfil  the  original 
sentence,  "Dust  thou  art,  and  unto  dust  thou  shalt  re- 
turn."— It  is  followed  too,  as  to  both,  with  the  same 
humiliating  effects.  "  They  lie  down  alike  in  the  dust, 
and  the  worms  cover  them."  To  both,  the  grave  is 
equally  narrow,  equally  cold,  equally  silent,  and  dark, 
and  dreary.  They  rot  alike  into  indiscriminate  dust. 
And,  as  it  is  of  secular  wisdom  Solomon  is  speaking, 
not  of  spiritual  and  saving  knowledge, — in  the  depar- 
ture of  both  there  is  ground  for  the  anxious  and  trem« 
bling  forebodings  of  futurity,  both  being  destitute  of 
good  hope.  Thus  Solomon  "  saw  that  wise  men  died, 
and  that  the  fool  and  the  brutish  person  perished  ;"  and 
his  spirit  was  vexed  and  mortified.  He  hated  life  ;  and 
all  his  labour,  in  the  acquisition  of  his  wisdom  and  of 
his  general  superiority  to  other  men,  seemed  grievous, 
as  having  yielded  him  no  solid  or  permanent  satisfac- 
tion : — verse  17.  "  Therefore  1  hated  life ;  because  the 
work  that  is  wrought  under  the  sun  (is)  grievous  to  me : 
for  all  (is)  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit." — Alas  !  alas  ! 
what  is  life  my  friends,  without  a  contented  mind  ?  and 
where  is  a  truly  contented  mind  to  be  found,  except  in 
the  pious  and  believing  reference  of  every  thing  to 
God,  and  making  Him  the  chosen  portion  of  the  soul? 

Another  reason  for  dissatisfaction  with  the  results  of 
all  his  varied  labours  in  the  pursuit  of  happiness,  is  as- 
signed in  the  following  verses : — 

Verses  18—23.  "  Yea,  1  hated  all  my  labour  which 
I  had  taken  under  the  sun  ;  because  1  should  leave  it 
unto  the  man  that  shall  be  after  me.  And  who  knoweth 
whether  he  shall  be  a  wise  (man)  or  a  fool?  yet  shall  he 
have  rule  over  all  my  labour  wherein  I  have  laboured, 
and  wherein  1  have  showed  myself  wise  under  the  sun. 
This  (is)  also  vanity.  Therefore  I  went  about  to  cause 


84  '      LECTURE  IV. 

my  heart  to  despair  of  all  the  labour  which  I  took  under 
the  sun.  For  there  is  a  man  whose  labour  (is)  in  wis- 
dom, and  in  knowledge,  and  in  equity ;  yet  to  a  man 
that  hath  not  laboured  therein  shall  he  leave  it  (for)  his 
portion.  This  also  (is)  vanity,  and  a  great  evil.  For 
what  hath  man  of  all  his  labour,  and  of  the  vexation 
of  his  heart,  wherein  he  hath  laboured  under  the  sun? 
For  all  his  days  (are)  sorrows,  and  his  travail  grief;  yea, 
his  heart  taketh  not  rest  in  the  night.  This  is  also 
vanity.'* 

"  1  hated  all  my  labour  which  I  had  taken  under  the 
sun,  because  I  should  leave  it  to  the  man  that  shall  be 
after  me."— But  why  should  this  have  so  grieved  thee, 
Solomon  ?  If  thy  heart  had  been  right  with  God  ;  if 
He  had  been,  as  He  ought  to  have  been,  thy  chief  joy, 
the  treasure  of  thy  soul ;  if  thy  affections  had  been  in 
heaven,  and  thy  hopes  full  of  immortality ;— the  thought 
of  parting  with  earthly  possessions,  with  worldly  gran- 
deur, with  human  admiration,  could  not  have  been  thus 
vexing  to  thy  spirit.  It  would  not  have  distressed  the 
feelings  of  piety,  to  anticipate  the  exchange  of  these  for 
purer  joys  and  sublimer  honours;  nor  the  feelings  of 
generous  benevolence,  to  think  of  leaving  to  another 
what  thou  couldest  no  longer  enjoy  thyself.— But  alas! 
to  the  worlding,  who  seeks  his  portion  in  the  present 
life,  as  Solomon  was  now  doing,  even  the  simple 
thought  that  all  must  be  left,  cannot  but  be,  in  the  ex- 
treme, galling  and  disheartening. 

But  there  is  something  more  here.  They  must  not 
only  be  left,  and  left  to  another  ;  the  character  of  the 
successor,  and  the  use  he  is  to  make  of  them,  are  mat-, 
ters  of  vexatious  uncertainty  :— "  And  who  knoweth, 
whether  he  shall  be  a  wise  man  or  a  fool  ?  yet  shall  he 
have  rule  over  all  my  labour  wherein  I  have  laboured, 


ECCLES.  II.  12— S6.  85 

und  wherein  I  have  showed  myself  wise,  under  the  sun. 
This  is  also  vanity." — If  a  man  has  a  son  to  succeed 
to  his  wealth  and  honours,  he  may  be  a  foolish  son, 
without  principle,  and  destitute  of  discretion  and  com- 
mon sense ;  or,  if  there  be  about  him  promising  symp- 
toms of  wisdom,  the  very  succession  to  riches  and 
splendour  may  work,  as  experience  shows  it  to  have 
many  a  time  done,  a  fatal  change  ;  may  frustrate  a  fa- 
ther's partial  anticipations ;  may  intoxicate  tiie  youthful- 
heart,  and  effectually  make  a  fool  of  the  hopeful  heir 

If  a  man  have  no  son,  and  fixes  the  succession  to  hi« 
estates  on  one  whom  he  esteems  wise  and  prudent, 
capable  of  keeping  them  together  and  of  using  them  to 
advantage,  he  may  have  been  deceived  by  specious  ap- 
pearances, assumed  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  his 
good  graces  ;  or  the  same  change  of  character  may  be 
produced  by  actual  change  of  condition,  which  we  have 
supposed  in  the  case  of  the  son  ; — and  whosoever  be 
the  heir,  sudden  death  may  prevent  his  entering  on  his 
new  inheritance,  or  may  very  soon  transmit  it  again  to 
other  hands,— and  these  may  be  the  hands  of  a  fool- 
It  is  probable,  that  Solomon  himself  had  no  very  flat- 
tering anticipations  of  the  future  character  of  his  son 
and  heir,  Rehoboam,  who  very  early  made  it  manifest, 
that,  along  with  the  throne  and  the  riches  and  the  Royal 
magnificence  of  his  father,  he  was  very  hr  from  inherit- 
ing his  wisdom  j  the  kingdom,  at  the  very  commence- 
ment of  his  reign,  being  divided  by  his  haughty  and 
headstrong  folly,  and  a  large  portion  of  it  alienated  from 
the  house  of  David. 

It  was  sadly  mortifying  to  Solomon,  then,  to  reflect, 
that  the  produce  of  ail  his  labour  and  of  all  his  care, 
the  wealth  he  had  accumulated,  the  honours  he  had 
acquired,  the  splendours  with  which  he  had  surrounded 


86  LECTURE  IV. 

himself,  might  come  immediately  into  the  possession  of 
one'who  might  break  the  sceptre  he  had  swayed  amidst 
so  much  prosperity,  might  abuse  and  squander  his  pub- 
lic treasures  and  his  private  fortunes,  might  forfeit  his 
honours  and  cover  himself  with  contempt :— that  such 
a  one  might  *'  have  rule  over  all  his  labour  wherein  he 
had  laboured,  and  wherein  he  had  showed  himself  wise 
under  the  sun." 

So  many  circumstances  thus  concurring  to  impress 
on  his  mind  the  vanity  of  earthly  things,  and  the  false- 
hood of  the  promises  of  happiness  held  out  by  them, 
he  began  to  bethink  himself  a  little  more  gravely,  and 
to  renounce  the  pursuit  |Of  enjoyment  from  worldly 
i^ood,  as  desperate  and  hopeless  : — ''  Therefore  I  went 
about  to  cause  my  heart  to  despair  of  all  the  labour 
which  I  took  under  the  sun."— The  mode  of  expres- 
sion seems  to  imply,  that  this  was  no  easy  matter.  His 
heart  clung  firmly  to  the  world  :— he  could  not  bring 
himself  to  relinquish  it : — yet  when  he  considered  and 
re-considered  his  experiment,  as  far  as  it  had  hitherto 
gone,  he  found  it  would  not  do. — And,  amongst  the 
views  of  the  world,  which  were  ever  forcibly  recurring 
to  his  mind,  the  last  mentioned  appears  to  have  had  a 
predominant  influence.  He  repeats  it : — "  There  is  a 
man,"— (that  is,  the  case  is  one  which  not  unfrequently 
occurs,  and  Solomon  himself  was,  in  some  respects, 
an  instance  of  it,)—"  There  is  a  man  who  hath  laboured 
in"  (or  according  to)  *'  wisdom,  and  knowledge,  and 
equity  ;  yet  to  a  man  who  hath  not  laboured  therein," 
(that  is,  not  merely  who  hath  entered  on  the  posses- 
sion of  what  cost  hmi  no  labour  of  his  own,  but  who,  in- 
stead of  labouring  in  wisdom,  and  knowledge,  and 
equity,  has  laboured  in  folly  and  ignorance  and  unrigh- 
teousness, and  who  continues  to  display  the  same  cha- 


ECCLES.  II.  12 — S6.  87 

racter,)  "  shall  he  leave  it  for  his  portion."  The  entire 
produce  of  his  prudent,  and  intelligent,  and  equitable 
diligence,  becomes  the  portion  of  a  foolish  and  a 
vicious  man.  "  This,"  says  he,  ^'  is  vanity,  and  a  great 
evil  j"  an  evil  which,  in  Solomon's  experience,  served 
to  embitter  all  the  satisfaction  which  a  man  can  derive 
from  his  labours  : — *'  For  what  hath  a  man  of  all  his  la- 
bour, and  of  the  vexation  of  his  heart  wherein  he  hath 
laboured  under  the  sun  ?" — When  his  course  is  thus 
brought  to  a  close,  and  he  leavesthe  results  of  all  his  toils 
to  another,  "  to  the  man  that  shall  come  after  him," — 
*' what  hath  he?" — what  reward,— what  profit,— what 
compensation,  for  all  his  labour,  all  his  anxiety,  and 
care,  and  vexation  of  spirit  ?— when  his  soul  comes  to 
be  required  of  him,"  and  the  emphatical  question  is 
asked,  *'  whose  shall  those  things  be  which  thou  hast 
provided  ?" 

The  twenty-third  verse,  "  For  all  his  days  are  sor- 
rows, and  his  travail  grief;  yea,  his  heart  taketh  not 
rest  in  the  night :  this  is  also  vanity  ;"— does  not  seem 
to  be  intended  as  a  direct  answer  to  the  question  which 
had  just  been  asked,  '*  What  hath  man  of  all  his  labour, 
and  of  the  vexation  of  his  heart  wherein  he  hath  la- 
boured under  the  sun  ?" — as  if  the  wise  man  had  said, 
He  has  only  vexation  ;  ''^for  all  his  days  are  sorrows, 
and  his  travail  grief."  It  is  rather  designed,  I  think,  to 
aggravate  the  evil,  that  all  should  have  so  unprofitable 
a  termination  :— '^  What  hath  he  V— although  *'  all  his 
days  were  sorrows,  and  his  travail  grief."  W^hen  he 
has  thus  spent  his  life,  given  his  whole  soul  to  the  la- 
bours of  this  world,  passed  through  days  of  sorrow  and 
disquietude,  toiled  in  carefulness  and  grief  of  spirit, 
and  added  to  such  days,  nights  of  sleepless  anxiety,  or 
slumbers  scared  and  disturbed  with  uaeasv  dreams  and 


88  LECTURE  IV. 

startling  apprehensions ;— when,  by  such  means,  he  has 
reali-zcdall  that  his  heart  was  set  upon,  and  filled  others 
with  wonder  and  envy  at  his  success  ;— ''  What  hath 
l^e  ?"— When  he  comes  to  die,  and  to  leave  it  all  behind 
him,  the  poorest  is  as  rich,  and  the  meanest  as  mighty 
as  he.  Such  is  the  termination,  and  such  the  fruit,  of 
all  iiis  toils,  and  sorows,  and  solicitudes.  Surely,  then, 
"  this  is  also  vanity."  Jt  is  but  very  mixed  and  unsa- 
tisfying  enjoyment  while  it  lasts  ;  sweet,  with  a  large 
infusion  of  bitter  ; — and  the  end  of  all  is  unprofitable 
and  vexatious. 

Solomon  had  "  gone  about  to  make  his  heart  to  des- 
pair of  all  his  labour  under  the  sun,"  in  pursuit  of  solid 
satisfaction  from  earthly  things.  In  the  verses  which 
follow,  he  sets  before  us  the  proper  use  of  the  posses- 
sions of  the  present  xvorld : — 

Verses  24—26.  "  (There  is)  nothing  better  for  a  man, 
(than)  that  he  should  eat  and  drink,  and  (that)  he  should 
make  his  soul  enjoy  good  in  his  labour.  This  also  I 
saw,  that  it  was  from  the  hand  of  God.  For  who  can 
eat,  or  who  else  can  hasten  (hereunto,)  more  than  I  ? 
For  (God)  giveth  to  a  man  that  (is)  good  in  his  sight, 
wisdom,  and  knowledge,  and  joy  :  but  to  the  sinner 
he  giveth  travail,  to  gather  and  to  heap  up,  that  he  may 
give  to  (him  that  is)  good  before  God.  '  This  also  (is) 
vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit." 

"  There  is  nothing  better." — Is  this,  then,  the  su- 
preme good?  Docs  tiie  writer  here  speak  absolutely? 
For  an  answer  to  such  questions,  we  have  only  to  look 
forward  a  little  to  the  great  general  lesson,  or  moral,  of 
the  whole  book  ;  chap.  xii.  13.  ''  Let  us  hear  the  con- 
clusion of  the  whole  matter  :  fear  God,  and  keep  his 
commandments;  for  this  is  the  whole  (duty")  (or  ra- 
rher,  the  whole  happiness)  *'  of  man ;" — a  lesson  which 


ECCLES.  II.  12 — 26.  8d 

is  in  harmony  with  the  doctrine,  on  the  same  subject, 
of  all  the  other  Scriptures.  ^'The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the 
beginning  of  knowledge  ;  but  fools  despise  wisdom 
and  instruction."  *^  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  begin- 
ning of  wisdom  ;  a  good  understanding  have  all  they 
that  do  his  commandments."  "  Where  shall  wisdom 
be  found  ?  and  where  is  the  place  of  understanding  ?— 
God  understandeth  the  way  thereof,  and  he  knoweth 
the  place  thereof. — And  unto  man  he  said,  Behold,  the 
fear  of  the  Lord,  that  is  wisdom,  and  to  depart  from 
evil  is  understanding."^ 

In  the  verses  before  us,  Solomon  must  be  understood 
as  speaking  of  the  way  to  derive  from  earthly  things 
that  kind  and  degree  of  enjoyment  which  they  are  ca- 
pable of  affording.  And  this  is,  not  to  pursue  them  as 
our  chief  good  :  not  to  seek  our  happiness  from  them ; 
but,  with  a  thankful,  contented,  and  cheerful  spirit,  to 
receive  and  enjoy  such  a  measure  of  them  as  God  in 
his  providence  may  be  pleased  to  bestow. 

•'  There  is  nothing  better  for  a  man,"  as  to  the  things 
of  time,  "  than  that  he  should  eat  and  drink,"  that  is, 
that  he  should  use  the  comforts  and  blessings  which 
God  confers,  "  and  that  he  should  make  his  soul  en- 
joy good  in  his  labour,"  maintaining  an  easy  and  satis- 
fied mind,  without  grudging  and  repining  at  what  has 
been,  or  fretting  with  unhappy  solicitude  about  what 
may  be ;  free  from  the  irksome  care  about  possessions 
already  acquired,  and  from  the  toiling  and  anxious 
eagerness  of  those  who  "  haste  to  be  rich,"  whose  de- 
sires are  incessant  for  more,  and  more,  and  more  ;  their 
ideas  changing  and  their  ambition  swelling  as  they  ad- 
vance, and  who  are  never,  in  any  stage  of  their  pro- 
gress, ^'  content  with  such  things  as  they  have."    This 

*rrov.  i.7.    Psal.-cxi.  10,    Job.  xxvlii.  23. 

M 


90  LECTURE  IV. 

is  far  from  being  the  way  to  the  true  enjoyment  even 
of  this  world.  He  enjoys  it  best,  who  receives  its  bless- 
ings, as  from  the  hand  of  God,  with  a  cheerful  and 
thankful,  but  dependent  and  resigned  spirit,  who  makes 
God  himself, — not  the  temporary  gift,  but  the  Eternal 
giver, — his  portion,  and  who  has  learned  to  be  satisfied 
with  whatever  He  is  pleased  to  provide. 

This  temper  of  mind  is  not  in  nature ;  the  lesson, 
as  I  have  just  hinted,  must  be  learned:—'-^  This  also  I 
saw,"  says  Solomon,  "  that  it  was  from  the  hand  of 
God."  The  meaning  of  this  is,  not  merely  that  the 
bounties  of  providence  are  from  the  Divine  hand  ;  but 
that  from  him  proceeds  a  suitable  temper,  of  mind  for 
the  true  enjoyment  of  them  ;— a  grateful  and  contented 
spirit.  This  is  from  God.  It  is  produced  and  main- 
tained by  Divine  influence  ;  and  it  imparts  to  the  things 
of  time  a  relish  which  can  never  be  experienced  by 
those  who  make  them  their  portion.— Solomon's  doc- 
trine of  the  necessity  of  this  lesson  being  taught  us  by 
God,  agrees  with  the  experience  of  the  apostle  Paul, 
as  given  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Philippians  :— "  Not  that 
I  speak  in  respect  of  want :  for  /  have  learned^  in  what- 
soever state  I  am  (therewith)  to  be  content.  I  know 
both  how  to  be  abased,  and  I  know  how  to  abound  : 
everywhere,  and  in  all  things,  I  am  instructedy  both  to 
be  full  and  to  be  hungry,  both  to  abound  and  to  suffer 
need.  I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  who  strength- 
eneihme."*  He  "  learned,^'' — he  was  ^'  instructed ;''^— 
not  merely  informed  of  this  state  of  mind  being  his 
duty,  but  effectually  taught,  by  the  grace  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,  to  maintain  it.  The  sentiment  of  the  entire  de- 
pendence  of  the  creature  on  Divine  Providence,  of  the 
peaceful  serenity  of  mind  arising  from  the  habitual  im- 

*  Phil,  iv.l  1—13. 


ECCLES.  II.  13—26.  91 

pression  of  it,  and  of  God's  being  the  Author  of  this 
contented  and  happy  frame  of  spirit,  is  finely  expressed 
by  the  Psalmist  in  the  beginning  of  the  127th  Psalm  i 
— *^  Except  the  Lord  build  the  house,  they  labour  in 
vain  that  build  it :  except  the  Lord  keep  the  city,  the 
watchman  waketh  in  vain.  It  is  vain  for  you  to  rise  up 
early,  to  sit  up  late,  to  eat  the  bread  of  sorrows  :— so 
he  giveth  his  beloved  sleep."  He  enables  his  children, 
the  objects  of  his  paternal  love  and  care,  to  enjoy  tran- 
quil and  sound  repose,  neither  abridged  by  the  wake- 
fulness, nor  disturbed  by  the  scaring  dreams  of  anxiety, 
by  giving  them  to  exercise  a  believing  filial  reliance 
upon  himself,  and  impressing  on  their  minds  the  vanity 
and  utter  fruitlessness  of  the  most  solicitous  and  drudg- 
ing labour  without  his  blessing,  and  the  abiding  con- 
viction that  his  sovereignty  cannot  be  controlled,  that 
his  wise  administration  cannot  be  improved,  that  his 
gracious  and  faithful  promises  cannot  be  falsified. 

His  own  experience  served  to  satisfy  him,  that  the 
happiness  to  be  derived  from  the  things  of  this  world, 
depends  entirely  on  the  state  of  mind  in  which  they  are 
received  and  enjoyed,  and  that  this  state  of  mind  is 
*'  from  the  hand  of  God  :"  for  if  the  varieties  of  earthly 
good  had  in  themselves  been  capable  of  imparting  true 
satisfaction,  who  could  have  found  that  satisfaction,  if 
he  failed  of  it? — **  for  who  can  eat,  or  who  else  can 
hasten  (hereunto,)  more  than  I?"  Who  is  there  that 
can  enjoy  the  delicacies  and  the  luxuries  of  life  more 
than  1?— what  appetite  can  be  more  richly  feasted, 
what  taste,  in  all  its  capricious  likings,  more  entirely 
indulged,  than  mine  ?  Or  "  who  can  hasten"  more  than 
I,  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  pleasures  of  sense,  in  all  their 
variety?— who  can  seek  them  with  more  unremitting 
ardour?  who  can  grasp  them  with  a  fonder  avidity^ 


92  LECTURE  IT. 

who  can  possess  them  with  a  heart  more  set  upon  them, 
and  more  determined  to  make  the  most  of  them,  than 
I  ?  And  who  can  obtain  them  with  greater  facility  ? — 
who  can  refine  them  to  a  higher  excellence  ? — who  can 
multiply  them  to  a  richer  abundance  ?— Yet  all  would 
not  do.  They  yielded  me  nothing  that  deserved  the 
name  of  happiness.  God  must  not  only  bestow  them, 
but  bestow  along  with  them  a  right  spirit  in  the  recep- 
tion and  estimation,  the  enjoyment  and  use  of  them, 
else  they  will  be  curses  instead  of  blessings,  fountains 
of  bitterness  rather  than  springs  of  pleasure. 

The  true  enjoyment,  then,  even  of  the  things  of  the 
present  world,  is  one  of  the  peculiar  advantages  of  God's 
people  ;  and  the  experience  of  Solomon  confirms  the 
saying  of  the  apostle  : — "  Godliness  is  profitable  unto 
all  things,  having  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  and 
of  that  which  is  to  come."* 

Verse  26th.  '^  For  (God)  giveth  to  a  man  that  (is) 
good  in  his  sight,  wisdom,  and  knowledge,  and  joy  : 
but  to  the  sinner  he  giveth  travail,  to  gather  and  to 
heap  up,  that  he  may  give  to  (him  that  is)  good  before 
God.  This  also  (is)  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit." 

"  The  man  that  is  good  in  his  sight,"  is  th«  man 
that  is  truly  good ;  good  in  the  unerring  estimate  of 
the  Divine  mind ;  whose  "  heart  is  right  with  God," 
and  who  is  "  steadfast  in  his  covenant ;"  who  believes 
his  word,  trusts  in  his  grace,  and  obeys  his  will, — 
*'  doing  justly,  loving  mercy,  and  walking  humbly 
with  his  God," — "  denying  all  ungodliness  and  worldly 
desires,  and  living  soberly,  and  righteously,  and  godly, 
in  this  present  world ;"  choosing  God  as  his  por- 
tion, •'  glorifying  him  in  his  body  and  spirit  which  are 
bis,"  grateful  for  his  kindness,  submissive  to  his  cor. 

"  \  Tim.  iv.  8, 


ECCLES.  n.  IS — 26.  93 

rections,  satisfied  with  the  arrangements  of  his  gracious 
providence,  and  with  the  provisions  and  proposals  of 
his  redeeming  love. — To  such  a  man,  "  God  giveth 
wisdom  and  knowledge,"  by  which  he  is  enabled 
rightly  to  appreciate  the  comparative  value  of  temporal 
and  eternal  things,  to  give  the  former  their  proper 
measure  of  regard,  to  "  use  them  as  not  abusing  them," 
reserving  his  heart  for  the  latter  and  for  God.  In  this 
way  he  giveth  him  also  '*  joy ;"  the  state  of  mind  arising 
from  this  exercise  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  being 
eminently  favourable  to  the  happy  enjoyment  of  all  the 
blessings  of  life,  preserving  equanimity,  moderating 
and  regulating  the  desires,  and,  by  suppressing  extra- 
vagant  elation  in  prosperity,  lightening  the  pressure  of 
adversity,  and  tempering  the  otherwise  overwhelming 
vexation  of  losses  and  disappointments,  of  frustrated 
schemes,  and  baffled  exertions. 

"  But  to  the  sinner"— that  is,  to  the  man  who  is  not 
*'  good  before  God,"  whose  spirit  is  not  right  with 
him,  who  "  goes  on  frowardly  in  the  way  of  his  own 
heart,"  and  "  according  to  the  course  of  this  world ;" 
who  "  says  to  the  Almighty,  Depart  from  me,  for  I  de- 
sire not  the  knowledge  of  thy  ways ;"  who,  regardless 
of  the  obligations,  and  insensible  to  the  pleasures,  of 
religion,  seeks  his  happiness  in  the  creature  and  not 
in  the  Creator  ; — *^  to  the  sinner  he  giveth  travail,  to 
gather  and  to  heap  up,  that  he  may  give  to  him  that  is 
good  before  God.  This  also  is  vanity  and  vexation  of 
spirit."  The  meaning  is,  that  all  that  Solomon  had  de- 
scribed, is  the  experience  not  of  the  good  man,  but  of 
the  sinner, — of  the  man  who  forgets  and  forsakes  the 
Lord.  This  is  the  man,  all  whose  labour  is  "  travail." 
It  is  he  that  rises  early,  and  sits  up  late,  and  eats  the 
bread  of  sorrows.  It  is  he  that  is  sickened  with  cares. 


94^  LECTURE  IV. 

and  harrassed  by  disappointments.  His  object  is,  and 
he  toils  hardly  and  restlessly  for  its  attainment,  *^  to 
gather  and  to  heap  up:''  and  then,  when  he  has  gained 
his  end,  though  never  to  his  heart's  content,  he  must 
leave  all  behind  him ;  and  possibly,  in  the  appointment 
of  an  all-wise  providence,  overruling  every  thing  for 
the  Divine  glory,  his  accumulated  treasures  must  be- 
come the  portion  of  one  whom  of  all  others  he  most 
heartily  dislikes,-— of  a  godly  man,  the  object  of  his 
avowed  and  bitter  scorn,  but  of  God's  approbation  and 
regard ;  who  will  devote  his  possessions  to  purposes  of 
which  his  predecessor  never  dreamed,  or  which,  if  they 
ever  crossed  his  thoughts,  were  instantly  dismissed 
with  banter  and  imprecation ;  who  will  **  honour  the 
Lord  with  his  substance,  and  with  the  first  fruits  of  all 
his  increase."  Solomon  had  remarked,  in  surveying 
the  incidents  and  changes  of  human  life,  that  the  Su- 
preme Disposer  frequently  thus  transferred  the  bounties 
of  his  providence,  stored  up  by  wicked  means  for  wicked 
ends,  from  the  sinner  to  the  saint,  from  hands  that  un- 
worthily  abused  them,  to  hands  that  would  apply  them 
to  their  legitimate  uses.  It  is  God's  doing.  The  sinner 
does  not,  of  his  own  free  will,  relinquish  his  treasurest 
and  give  them  over  into  the  hands  of  the  godly.  No  : 
what  he  acquired  by  travail  he  abandons  with  reluc- 
tance. They  are  not  presented  with  his  open  hand,  but 
wrenched  from  his  tenacious  grasp.  He  holds  them 
while  he  can,  and  only  parts  with  them  from  an  indig- 
nant feeling  of  necessity.— With  respect  to  the  travail 
and  anxiety  of  labouring  for  earthly  good,  Solomon's 
experience,  whilst  he  was  departing  from  God,  had  of 
course  been  that  of  '^  the  sinner  ;"  and  it  was  all  "  va- 
nity and  vexation  of  spirit." 

The  great  moral  of  the  whole  of  this  chapter  is  con- 


ECCiiES.  II.  13 — S6.  95 

tained  in  these  concluding  verses.  These  form  the  prac- 
tic;;]  improvement  of  the  discoveries  made  by  the  writer, 
in  his  experiments  on  earthly  wisdom,  on  madness  and 
folly>  f.«n  sensual  gratification,  luxurious  elegance,  and 
voluptuous  retineilient,  considered  as  independent 
sources  of  happiness  to  man.  In  this  view  of  them,  they 
are  all  pronounced  vanity;  incapableof  yielding  true  and 
substantial  felicity  :--and  he  here  teaches  the  important 
secret,  of  extracting  from  earthly  things  the  full  propor- 
tion of  sweetness  which  they  are  capable  of  affording. 

Let  us  learn,  my  brethren,  to  make  a  proper  discri- 
mination even  amongst  secular  pursuits.  Wisdom,  or 
science,  even  when  considered  as  exclusive  of  godli- 
ness, is,  in  its  nature  and  uses,  decidedly  superior  to 
sensual  pleasure ;  and  that  too,  although  in  the  pursuit 
and  enjoyment  of  the  latter  there  may  be  no  particularly 
sinful  excess.  But  still,  neither  of  them  will  do,  to  be 
the  substance  of  happiness,  the  "  one  thing  needful," 
the  portion  of  the  soul ; — nor  will  earthly  things,  of  any 
description,  yield  their  sweets  to  their  possessor,  till 
they  have  ceased  to  be  looked  upon  at  all  in  this  light. — 
Forget  not,  my  Christian  brethren,  the  higher  and  no- 
bler objects  of  desire  and  pursuit,  which  your  Divine 
Master  sets  before  you,  and  charges  you  to  mind  : — 
*'  If  ye,  then,  be  risen  with  Christ,  seek  those  things 
which  are  above,  where  Christ  sitteth  on  the  right  hand 
of  God.  Set  your  affections  on  things  above,  not  on 
things  on  the  earth.  For  ye  are  dead,  and  your  life  is 
hid  with  Christ  in  God.  When  Christ,  who  is  our 
life,  shall  appear,  then  shall  ye  also  appear  with  him  in 
glory."*— O  keep  these  objects  of  blessed  hope  con- 
tiuually  before  your  view.  In  proportion  to  the  force 
and  the  constancy  of  their  influence  on  your  affections, 

♦  Col.  iii,  1—4. 


95  LECTURE  IV. 

will  be  your  equanimity  amidst  the  changes  of  this  fluc- 
tuating world,  from  good  to  evil,  and  from  evil  to  good, 
and  the  correspondence  of  your  tempers  and  deportment 
to  the  spirit  of  the  apostolic  admonition  :— '^  But  this,  I 
say,  brethren,  the  time  is  short :  it  remaineth,  that  both 
they  that  have  wives  be  as  though  they  had  none  ;  and 
they  that  weep  as  though  they  wept  not,  and  they  that 
rejoice  as  though  they  rejoiced  not,  and  they  that  buy 
as  though  they  possessed  not,  and  they  that  use  this 
world  as  not  abusing  it ;  for  the  fashion  of  this  world 
passeth  away."* — The  more  habitually  our  desires  are 
elevated  to  the  things  that  are  unseen  and  eternal,  the 
less  will  the  vicissitudes  of  those  that  are  seen  and  tem- 
poral, be  found  capable  of  aflPecting  our  real  happiness. 
Assigning  to  them  their  proper  place,  and  expecting 
from  them  no  more  than  they  are  fitted  to  produce,  we 
shall  be  free  from  the  disappointments  of  those  who  look 
to  them  for  what  they  never  can  yield.  Laying  our  ac- 
count with  one  day  leaving  them,  we  shall  not  be  con- 
founded, as  by  an  event  on  which  we  had  not  at  all  cal- 
culated, if,  in  the  providence  of  God,  they  should  leave 
us,  "  making  to  themselves  wings  and  flying  away,  as 
an  eagle  towards  heaven."  The  knowledge  that  we 
"  have  in  heaven  a  better  and  more  enduring  substance,'- 
will  make  our  worldly  bereavements  comparatively  light. 
**  Confessing  ourselves  strangers  and  pilgrims  on  the 
earth,"  we  shall  still  look  for  the  '^  better  country,  even 
the  heavenly."  And,  "  all  things  working  together  for 
good  to  them  that  love  God,  to  them  who  are  the  called 
according  to  his  purpose,"  our  temporal  loss  will  be 
our  spiritual  gain  :— "  our  light  affliction,  which  is  but 
for  a  moment,  will  work  out  for  us  a  far  more  exceed- 
ing and  eternal  weight  of  glory." 

♦  1  Cor.  vii.  29-31. 


ECCLES.  II.  12 — S6.  97 

And  O !  let  "  the  sinner"  seriously  contemplate  his 
future  prospects.  Let  him  "  consider  his  latter  end." 
All  that  you  are  labouring  for  you  must  very  soon  re- 
linquish, — leaving  every  shred  behind  you.  And 
quickly  as  that  inevitable  and  final  separation  must 
come,  you  have  no  security  for  your  retaining  your  ac- 
quisitions even  till  then.  God  is  at  this  moment,  in 
these  times  of  general  calamity  and  privation,  reading 
to  you,  and  to  all,  a  most  impressive  lesson  of  their 
precariousness.  You  are  ^'  setting  your  eyes  on  that 
which  is  not ;" — that  which  is  so  uncertain,  so  fleeting 
and  transient,  as  hardly  to  be  allowed  the  attribute  of 
existence.  You  are  eagerly  coveting,  and  fondly  at. 
taching  yourselves  to  a  nonentity, — an  empty  unsub- 
stantial shadow,  which,  ere  your  eye  has  glanced  upon 
it,  flits  from  before  you.  You  are  treasuring  up  "trifles 
light  as  air,"  and  as  unstable  as  they  are  light,  which 
every  shifting  wind  of  fortune^  (to  borrow  your  own 
Heathen  phraseology,)  may  blow  for  ever  away. — And 
O,  for  your  sakes,  that  this  were  all  .'—that  the  mere  loss 
of  these  trifles  were  the  amount  of  the  evil  that  shall 
arise  from  a  life  devoted  to  the  pursuit  of  them  !  But, 
whilst  you  are  living  "  without  God  in  the  world," 
estranging  your  hearts  from  him  and  giving  them  to  the 
creature,  preferring  to  his  service  the  service  of  mam- 
mon, seeking  the  gift  and  forgetting  and  rebelling 
against  the  giver,  abusing  the  bounties  of  his  provi- 
dence, (for  all  is  abused  that  is  not  consecrated  in  the 
use  of  it,  by  religious  principle,  to  the  honour  of  the 
Divine  Benefactor,)  and  slighting  and  refusing  the 
offered  blessings  of  his  grace  :~whilst  you  are  living 
thus,  you  are  engaged  in  a  much  more  lawful  employ- 
ment than  the  laying  up  of  trifles  for  future  loss  ; — -you 
N 


98  LECTURE  IV. 

are  ^^  treasuring  up  unto  yourselves  wrath  against  the 
day' of  wrath  and  revelation  of  the  righteous  judgment 
of  God."*— O  deceive  not  yourselves  with  the  fancy, 
that  because  you  "  labour  in  equity ^^"^  as  well  as  "  in 
wisdom  and  knowledge,"  defrauding  no  man,  but  giv- 
ing every  one  his  due ;  and  because  you  '*  run  not  to 
the  excess  of  riot,"  but  are  decent  and  sober-living 
men, — that  therefore  there  is  no  danger.  There  is  dan- 
ger, imminent  and  awful  danger,  if,  in  the  midst  of  all 
your  equity  and  sobriety,  the  world  has  your  hearts, 
and  not  God;  if  you  are  living  to  yourselves  ;  if  your 
conduct  is  not  influenced  and  guided  by  religious  prin- 
ciple,  by  the  faith,  and  the  fear,  and  the  love  of  God. 
*'  Ye  cannot  serve  God  and  Mammon,"  is  the  unequi- 
vocal and  unqualified  declaration  of  the  Lord  of  Chris- 
tians ;  and  of  the  two  services  it  is  only  the  service  of 
God  that  can  end  well.  Loss,  and  shame,  and  misery, 
will  be  the  issue  of  the  one ;  gain,  and  glory,  and 
blessedness,  the  eternal  reward  of  the  other.  Be  per- 
suaded, then,  to  embrace  this  holy  and  happy  service. 
Be  persuaded  to  seek  something  better  and  more  lasting 
than  this  world  can  afford  you  ;_to  seek  an  ever-during 
portion  in  the  love  of  God,  and  all  the  blessings  which 
it  confers  on  its  favoured  objects,  through  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord.  An  interest  in  this  love,  and  in  these  bless- 
ings, is  the  only  way  to  the  true  and  satisfying  enjoy- 
ment even  of  the  present  world.  Listen,  then,  to  the 
voice  of  Divine  Wisdom  :— "  Receive  my  instruction, 
and  not  silver  ;  and  knowledge  rather  than  choice  gold. 
For  wisdom  is  better  than  rubies ;  and  all  the  things 
that  may  be  desired  are  not  to  be  compared  to  it." 
"Riches  and  honour  arc  with  me,  yea,  durable  riches 

*  Rom.  ii.  5. 


ECCLES.  II.  12 — SO.  99 

and  righteousness.  My  fruit  is  better  than  gold,  yea, 
than  fine  gold,  and  my  revenue  than  choice  silver,  I 
lead  in  the  way  of  righteousness,  in  the  midst  of  the 
paths  of  judgment:  that  I  may  cause  those  that  love 
me  to  inherit  substance ;  and  I  will  fill  their  trea» 
sures."* 

*  Prov.  viii,  10,  11,  18—21 


LECTURE  V 


EccLEs.  iii,  1 — 15. 

1  "  To  every  f  thing  t/itrc  is  J  a  season,  and  a  time  to  every  fiur/iost' 

2  under  the  heaven  :  a  time  to  be  born,  and  a  time  to  die :  a  time  Ai 

3  plant,  and  a  time  to  filuck  up  (that  which  is  J  planted  ;  a  time  to 
kill,  and  a  time  to  heal:  a  time  to  break  down,  and  a  time  to  build 

4  tifi :  a  time  to  wee/i,  and  a  time  to  laugh  :  a  time  to  mourn,  and  a 

5  time  to  dance :  a  time  to  cast  away  stojies,  and  a  time  to  gather 
stones  together:  a  time  to  embrace,  and  a  time  to  refrain  from  em- 

6  bracing:  a  time  to  get,  and  a  time  to  lose:  a  time  to  keep,  and  a 

7  time  to  cast  away :  a  time  to  rend,  and  a  time  to  sew  :  a  time  to  keep 

8  silence,  and  a  time  to  speak  :  a  time  to  love,  and  a  time  to  hate  :  a 

9  time  of  war  and  a  time  of  peace.    What  profit  hath  he  that  worketh 

10  in  that  wherein  he  laboureth  ?    I  have  seen  the  travail  which  God 

11  hath  given  to  the  sons  of  men  to  be  exercised  in  it.  He  hath  made 
every  f  thing  J  beautiful  in  his  time :  also  he  hath  set  the  world  in 
their  heart ;  so  that  no  7nan  can  find  out  the  work  that  God  maketh 

12  from  the  beginning  to  the  end.    I  know  that  f  there  is  J  no  good  in 

13  them,  but  for  (a  man)  to  rejoice,  and  to  do  good  in  his  life.  .4nd 
also  that  every  man  should  eat  and  drink,  and  enjoy  the  good  of  all 

14  his  labour,  it  (is)  the  gift  of  God.  I  know  that  whatsoever  God 
doeth,  it  shall  be  for  ever :  nothing  can  be  put  to  it,  nor  any  thing 
taken  from  it;  and  God  doeth  (it,)  that  (men)  should  fear  before 

15  him.  That  which  hath  been  is  now;  and  that  which  is  to  be  hath  al- 
ready been  ;  and  God  requireth  that  ivhich  is  past." 


J.  0  the  right  understanding  and  interpretation  of  an 
author's  language,  nothing  is  of  more  essential  conse- 
quence than  a  due  consideration  of  his  leading  design, 
— the  general  scope  and  object  of  his  performance.  The 
great  lesson  which  this  book  is  intended  to  elucidate 
and  impress,  is  the  vanity  of  the  attempt  to  find  true 
happiness  from  any  of  the  sources  of  mere  worldly  en- 
joyment. To  this  purpose  the  verses  with  which  this 
chapter  commences  are,  in  one  view  of  their  meaning. 


ECCLES.  III.  1 15.  lOi 

remarkably  appropriate ;  and  this  of  itself  is  a  very  con- 
elusive  evidence  of  that  view  being  right.  They  teach 
the  two  following  important  truths  : — in  the  first  place, 
that  the  concerns  of  the  present  world  are,  beyond  ex- 
pression, unstable  and  fluctuating;  and,  secondly,  that 
all  its  incessant  vicissitudes  are  so  regulated  and  de- 
termined by  the  uncontrollable  purposes  of  the  Su- 
preme will,  that  no  human  sagacity  can  foresee  and 
prevent  them  ;  *'  the  times  and  seasons  being  kept  in 
his  own  power,"  by  him  who  says,  "My  counsel  shall 
stand,  and  I  will  do  all  my  pleasure."  Such  considera- 
tions impressively  teach  us,  on  the  one  hand,  the  folly 
of  saying,  in  such  a  world,  we  shall  never  be  moved  5 
and  the  wisdom,  on  the  other,  of  anticipating  such 
changes  as  may  be  appointed  and  inevitable  ;  of  accom- 
modating readily  to  the  shifting  scenes  of  life  the  state 
of  our  feelings  and  desires ;  of  conducting  ourselves 
with  propriety  in  all  the  varying  circumstances  of  our 
condition ;  and  of  never  resting  on  such  uncertainties 
as  the  basis  of  our  felicity. 

Keeping  these  general  observations  in  mind,  let  us 
briefly  glance  at  the  different  particulars  enumerated  in 
the  first  eight  verses. 

Verse  1st.  "  To  every  thing  there  is  a  season,  and  a 
time  for  every  purpose  under  the  sun." 

The  preceding  remarks  will  have  led  you  to  antici- 
pate, that  I  consider  these  words,  containing  the  gene- 
ral sentiment  of  which  the  seven  subsequent  verses  set 
forth  varied  exemplifications,  as  referring  to  the  all-di- 
recting providence  of  God  ;  whose  procedure  is  not  the 
random,  and  capricious,  and  unsteady  course  (if  a 
course  it  should  be  called)  of  short-sighted  ignorance 
and  fickle  imbecility ;  but  the  wise,  and  regular,  and 
well-ordered  administration  of  One^  who  "  knows  the 


103  LECTURE  V. 

end  from  the  beginning,"  to  whom  there  is  no  unanti- 
cipilted  contingency,  and  whose  omniscient  eye,  in  the 
midst  of  what  to  us  appears  inextricable  confusion,  has 
a  thorough  and  intuitive  perception  of  the  endlessly  di- 
versified relations  and  tendencies  of  all  events  and  all 
their  circumstances,  discerning  throughout  the  whole, 
the  perfection  of  harmony. — In  the  all-wise  providence 
of  God,  then, — "  to  every  thing  there  is  a  season,  and  a 
time  for  every  purpose  under  the  sun." 

He  begins  his  enumeration  of  particulars  with  the 
commencing  and  the  terminating  boundaries  of  life,  be- 
tween which  all  must  be  done,  and  enjoyed,  and  suf- 
fered, that  is  done,  enjoyed,  and  suffered,  under  the 
sun  : — 

There  is  "  a  time  to  be  born,  and  a  time  to  die." — - 
The  moment  is  predetermined,  of  every  man's  entering 
into  the  world ;  and  the  moment  is  also  fixed,  by  the 
same  sovereign  purpose,  at  which  he  is  to  leave  it. 
When  a  child  is  born,  no  one  can  affirm  how  long  it  is 
to  continue  here.  It  may  be  an  hour,  or  it  may  be 
"threescore  years  and  ten."  The  first  breath  is  no  se- 
curity for  the  next.  The  time  and  the  circumstances 
of  its  future  departure  are  known  to  God  alone,  the 
Author  and  the  Supporter  of  its  bemg.  All  that  ive 
can  with  certainty  say,  is,  "there  is  a  time  to  die." 
To  all,  the  event  is  equally  sure  ;  and  to  all,  the  period 
of  its  arrival  is  equally  a  secret.  And,  when  that  period 
does  arrive,  the  wish  and  the  attempt  to  evade  it  are  to 
all  equally  vain.  "  No  man  hath  power  over  the  spirit 
to  retain  the  spirit;" — no,  not  for  a  moment.— How 
foolish,  then,  must  it  be  for  us,  to  sit  down  at  our  ease 
to  enjoy  the  world,  as  if  we  had  the  time  of  our  con- 
tinuance in  it  in  our  own  power,  when,  in  truth,  we  are 
so  completely  tenants  at  willy  and  may  be  called  to  quit 


ECCLES.  III.  1 15.  103 

cn  a  moment's  notice. — "  Is  there  not  an  appointed 
time  to  man  on  the  earth  ?  are  not  his  days  also  as  the 
days  of  a  hirehng?"  Yes ;  but  with  this  difference,  that 
the  hireling  knows  the  period  of  his  service ;  whereas, 
of  the  duration  of  his,  man  is  left  in  utter  uncertainty. 
**  His  days  are  determined"  indeed  ;  but  "  the  number 
of  his  months  is  with  God :  God  hath  appointed  his 
bounds,  that  he  cannot  pass ;"  and  he  may  come  upon 
the  invisible  limit,  the  unseen  line  which  separates  time 
from  eternity,  ere  he  is  at  all  aware  of  his  being  near  it. 

There  is  "  a  time  to  plant,  and  a  time  to  pluck  up 
that  which  is  planted." 

By  some  these  words  are  understood  metaphorically, 
of  the  dispensations  of  providence  towards  families  and 
nations  ;  agreeably  to  a  use  made  of  the  same  and  simi- 
lar figures  in  some  other  parts  of  Scripture.  Thus  God 
says  to  his  ancient  people,  by  the  prophet  Jeremiah, 
chap,  xviii.  6 — 10.  "  O  house  of  Israel,  cannot  I  do 
with  you  as  this  potter  ?  saith  the  Lord.  Behold,  as  the 
clay  (is)  in  the  potter's  hand,  so  (are)  ye  in  my  hand, 

0  house  of  Israel.  (At  what)  instant  I  shall  speak  con- 
cerning a  nation,  and  concerning  a  kingdom,  to  pluck 
up,  and  to  pull  down,  and  to  destroy  (it :)  if  that  nation, 
against  whom  I  have  pronounced,  turn  from  their  evil, 

1  will  repent  of  the  evil  that  I  thought  to  do  unto  them. 
And  (at  what)  instant  I  shall  speak  concerning  a  nation, 
and  concerning  a  kingdom,  to  build,  and  to  plant  (it:) 
if  it  do  evil  in  my  sight,  that  it  obey  not  my  voice,  then 
I  will  repent  of  the  good  wherewith  I  said  I  would 
benefit  them." 

But  although  the  words,  thus  understood,  express  an 
important  truth,  a  truth  of  a  higher  order  than  their  li- 
teral meaning  suggests,  yet,  I  am  disposed  to  think, 
that  the  literal  meaning  is  the  true  one,  and  that  there 


104  LECTURE  y. 

is  a  direct  reference  in  them  to  a  part  of  Solomon's  va- 
rious labours,  as  described  by  him  in  the  preceding 
chapter:  "I  made  me  great  works:  I  builded  me 
houses ;  I  planted  me  vineyards ;  I  made  me  gardens 
and  orchards,  and  I  planted  trees  in  them  of  all  kinds 
of  fruits ;  I  made  me  pools  of  water,  to  water  therewith 
the  wood  that  bringeth  forth  trees." — Thus  Solomon 
planted:  and  thus  many,  possessing  the  means,  along 
with  the  taste  and  inclination,  planted  before  him,  and 
have  planted  aftei  him.  But  the  "  time  to  plant"  is  fol- 
lowed by  the  "  time  to  pluck  up."  The  planter  liim^ 
self,  from  change  of  circumstances,  from  alteration  of 
taste,  from  caprice,  or  from  necessity,  may  undo  his 
own  work  : — a  period  of  growth  too  arrives,  at  which 
wood,  of  all  varieties,  is  cut  down  for  profit,  or  rooted 
out  for  fruitlessness  : — and  no  man,  when  he  plants,  can 
be  sure,  how  soon  the  blasting  influences  of  an  unpro- 
pitious  season  may  oblige  him  to  pluck  up  his  young 
favourites ;  or  whether  his  successor  may  not  disap- 
prove his  plans,  and  immediately  on  obtaining  the  in- 
heritance, overturn  all  his  labours.  And,  should  they 
be  spared  for  a  time,  some  one,  at  a  later  period,  from 
taste  or  from,  avarice,  may  convert  the.  sylvan  into  ara- 
ble, or,  (what  is  still  more  deplorable,  but  not  unfre- 
quent,)  may  lay  wa^te  his  plantations  to  discharge  the 
debts  of  profligacy. 

"A  time  to  kill,  and  a  time  to  heal:"  that  is,  say 
some,  a  time  when  God  kills,  and  a  time  when  he  keeps 
alive ;  a  time  when  he  brings  to  the  grave,  and  a  time 
when  he  heals  and  brings  back  from  the  very  verge  of 
it.  I  have  no  objection  to  this  explanation  ;  only  I 
think  it  should  be  understood  with  reference  to  the 
ministry  or  agency  of  man ;  and  that  too,  not  to  his 
killing  by  violence^  but  to  killing,  as  opposed  to  healing, 


ECCLES.  III.   1—15.  10;5 

—both  sides  of  the  alternative  relating  to  the  same  case." 
There  is  a  time,  when  all  the  means  that  men  can  de- 
vise and  employ  will  prove  ineffectual  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  life ;  nay,  when  they  may  even  have  a  prejudi- 
cial and  deadly  influence  :— and  there  is  a  time,  accord- 
ing to  the  unknown  purpose  of  God,  when  the  same 
means  will  operate  like  charms,  will  check  and  turn  the 
ebbing  tide  of  life,  and  bring  back  the  exhausted  and 
despaired-of  patient  from  the  last  extremity.  All  de- 
pends on  the  purpose  and  appointment  of  God.  Let 
none  foolishly  abuse  this  important  truth ;  a  truth  which 
ought  never  to  be  absent  from  the  mind  of  a  dependent 
creature.  Let  none  interpret  it  as  fatalism,  and  hastily 
infer  the  uselessness  and  impiety  of  employing  means 
at  all.  For,  ahhough  there  is,  "a  time  to  kill,"  there  is 
also  "  a  time  to  heal."  Previously  to  the  use  of  means, 
the  result  is  known  only  to  God ;  and  to  us  it  belongs, 
to  employ,  with  gratitude  and  prayer,  such  as  skill  and 
experience  have  pronounced  to  be  suitable,  and  look 
up  to  God,  in  the  spirit  of  faith  and  submission,  for  the 
blessing  that  is  necessary  to  their  healing  efficacy.  It 
was  not  the  sin  of  Ahaz,  that  in  his  distress  he  "  looked 
to  the  physicians,"  but  that  he  "  did  not  look  to  the 
Lord." 

"  A  time  to  break  down,  and  a  time  to  build  up."— 
Even  of  those  cities  which  Solomon  himself  "  built  up," 
there  were  some  which  in  Divine  providence  had  pre- 
viously been  "  broken  down  by  hostile  violence."*  He 
built  up  also  the  wall  of  Jerusalem ;  which  was  again 
broken  down  at  the  captivity;  and,  after  the  appointed 
years  of  desolation,  built  up  anew  at  the  return  from 
Babylon;  and  at  last  thoroughly  overthrown,  in  the 
days  of  final  vengeance  on  the  rebellious  city.    One 

*  See  1  King's  ix.  15 — 17. 

o 


i06  LliCTURE  V. 

hour  of  Divine  judgment,  or  of  human  violence,  may 
break  down  what  it  has  cost  the  labour  of  many  years 
to  build.  "  Forty  and  six  years,"  said  the  taunting 
Jews  to  Jesus,  "was  this  temple  in  building:" — but 
when  God's  day  of  threatened  vengeance  arrived,  in 
how  much  shorter  time  were  its  massy  and  stupendous 
structures  levelled  with  the  dust,  and  the  prediction 
verified,  that  one  stone  should  not  be  left  upon  another! 
= — Solomon  had  "  made  him  great  works,  and  builded 
him  houses."  But  he  knew  not,  when  he  had  finished 
them,  how  long  each  was  destined  to  stand.  Violence 
might  soon  lay  them  in  ruins;  change  of  circumstances 
might  induce,  or  might  oblige,  himself  or  his  succes- 
sors in  the  throne,  to  pull  them  down ;  and,  at  any  rate, 
a  time  was  to  come  when  they  should  yield  to  the  dila- 
pidating influence  of  age,  should  totter  to  their  fall,  and 
be  removed  from  a  sense  of  danger. 

*'  A  time  to  weep,  and  a  time  to  laugh;  a  time  to 
mourn,  and  a  time  to  dance." 

These  two  clauses  of  verse  4th  are  evidently  of  syno- 
nimous  import.  There  is  a  time  when,  by  private  or 
by  public  calamities,  the  Sovereign  ruler  calls  to  weep- 
ing and  mourning ;  sometimes  "  suddenly  as  in  a  mo- 
ment," without  previous  admonition,  and  contrary  to 
all  human  expectation.  In  such  a  time,  mirth  and 
dancing  are  forgotten ;  or  if  not,  they  are  fearfully  un- 
seasonable, incongruous,  and  profane  : — "  In  that  day 
did  die  Lord  of  hosts  call  to  weeping  and  to  mourning, 
and  to  baldness,  and  to  girding  with  sackcloth :  and 
behold  joy  and  gladness,  slaying  oxen,  and  killing 
sheep,  eating  fiesh  and  drinking  wine :  let  us  eat  and 
drink,  for  to-morrow  we  shall  die.  And  it  was  revealed 
in  mine  ears  by  the  Lord  of  hosts,  Surely  this  iniquity 
shall  not  be  purged  from  you  till  ye  die,  saith  the  Lord 


ECCLTIS.  III.  1 15.  107 

of  hosts."*— There  is,  on  the  other  hand,  a  time  when 
the  scene  changes ;  when  the  light  of  prosperity  rises 
over  the  darkness  of  affliction  ;  when  God  "  turns  men's 
mourning  into  dancing,"  "  takes  off  their  sackcloth, 
and  girds  them  with  gladness." — And  then,  anon,  when, 
forgetting,  as  they  are  ever  prone  to  do,  the  inconstancy 
of  prosperity,  and  letting  slip  the  salutary  lessons  of 
their  previous  tribulation,  they  begin,  in  the  thought- 
lessness of  gaiety,  to  say,  *'  we  shall  never  be  moved," 
he  again  "  hides  his  face,  and  they  are  troubled." — Job 
was  a  happy  father,  and  a  rich  and  healthy  and  honoura- 
ble  man,  '*the  greatest  of  all  the  men  of  the  East:" — 
Job  became  by  the  sudden  visitations  of  God,  childless 
and  pennyless,  tormented  with  disease,  an  alien  to  his 
friends,  wronged,  insulted,  and  desolate ;  *'  his  harp  was 
turned  to  mourning,  and  his  organ  to  the  voice  of  them 
that  weep  :" — and  again  the  season  came  round,  when 
the  Lord  "  turned  the  captivity  of  Job,"  and  ^^  blessed 
his  latter  end  more  than  his  beginning." 

"  A  time  to  cast  away  stones,  and  a  time  to  gather 
stones  together:" — not,  surely,  for  the  purpose  of  or- 
dinary building ;  for  that  had  been  already  mentioned. 
The  reference  seems  to  be,  to  the  rearing  of  memorials 
of  covenants  between  parties,  and  of  remarkable  cir- 
cumstances or  events.  Such  were  the  pillar  erected  by 
Jacob,  and  the  heap  of  stones  piled  up  by  him  and  La- 
ban,  and  consecrated  by  the  solemnities  of  oath  and  sa- 
crifice, to  be  the  boundary  of  pledged  and  covenanted 
peace  between  them.f  Such  were  the  twelve  stones 
taken  from  the  midst  of  Jordan,  when  "  its  waters  were 
cut  off  before  the  ark  of  the  covenant,"  and  set  up  by 
Joshua,  as  a  memorial  to  future  generations,  of  the 
power,  and  goodness,  and   faithfulness  of  Jehovah.J 

*  Isa.  xxli.  12—14,  f  Gen.  xxxi,  44— 55,  4  Josh  iv.  1—9. 


108  LECTURE  V. 

And  such  uere  the  tumuli  of  stones  raised  over  Achail, 
and  over  Absalom.*  Other  instances  will  occur  to  the 
recollection  of  the  readers  of  the  Bible  ;  nor  has  the 
practice,  even  in  the  rude  form  in  which  it  most  fre» 
quently  appears  in  Scripture  history,  been  at  all  pecu- 
liar to  any  one  nation. — There  is  a  time,  then,  when 
covenants  are  made,  and  a  time  when  they  may  come 
to  be  disregarded  and  violated,  or  to  be  mutually  relin- 
quished by  the  parties,  and  the  memorials  of  them  thus 
rendered  useless.  There  is  a  time,  when  trophies  of 
■victory  and  triumph  are  erected,  and  a  time  when  the 
stones  of  them  are  thrown  down  and  scattered ;  when 
the  victors  in  their  turn  become  the  vanquished,  and 
defeat  and  shame  take  the  place  of  conquest  and  honour; 
when  those  who  dislike  the  events,  destroy  their  me- 
morials. 

*'  A  time  to  embrace,  and  a  time  to  refrain  from  em^ 
bracing." — There  is  a  time,  when  the  fondness  of  faith- 
ful and  fervent  friendship  bestows  its  caresses,  and  re- 
ceives them  in  return  with  reciprocal  sincerity  and  de- 
light; and  a  time  when  the  ardour  cools,  when  profes- 
sions fail ;  when  the  friend  of  our  bosom's  love  proves 
false  and  hollow-hearted,  and  the  sight  of  him  produces 
only  the  sigh  and  the  tear  of  bitter  recollection  ;  we  re- 
frain  from  embracing,  because  our  embrace  is  not  re- 
turned.-—There  is  a  time,  when  the  man  whom  God 
has  blessed  rejoices  with  the  wife  of  his  youth,  when 
^'the  candle  of  the  Lord  shines  upon  his  head,"  when 
all  is  prosperity  and  cheerfulness,  and  when  the  hal- 
lowed endearments  of  connubial  affection  are  enjoyed 
with  mutual  transport ;— and  a  time,  when  '^  the  light  is 
dark  in  his  tabernacle,"  when  the  visitations  of  God 
have  burdened  his  spirit  with  care  and  grief,  when 

•  Josh,  vli.  26.   2  Sam.  xviii.  \7,  18. 


ECCLES.  III.   1—15.  109 

even  such  pleasures  lose  their  wonted  relish,  when  to 
enjoy  them  as  before  would  be  insensibility  to  the  feel- 
ings  alike  of  nature  and  of  piety. — There  is  a  time 
when  the  heart  of  a  father  exults  over  ^^a  wises  on," 
when  he  presses  him  to  his  bosom  in  the  embrace  of 
cordial  approbation,  and,  smiling  upon  him  through 
tears  of  sweet  affection,  experiences  all  a  father's  joy, 
and  indulges,  in  visions  of  anticipation,  all  a  fiither's 
hopes ; — and  a  time,  when  the  smile  and  the  embrace 
must  be  reluctantly  withheld,  when  approbation  must 
give  place  to  reproof,  when  the  •'  foolish  son  becomes 
the  heaviness  of  his  mother,"  when  the  heart  is  wrung 
with  agony,  and  the  blessed  visions  of  hope  are  suc- 
ceeded by  the  dark  forebodings  of  despondency  and 
dread. 

^^  A  time  to  get,  and  a  time  to  lose." — Does  this  re- 
quire any  comment  at  present,  my  friends,  when  proofs 
of  it  so  numerous  are  before  your  daily  view  ?  There 
is  a  time,  when  industry  is  successful,  when  business 
prospers,  when  the  tide  of  prosperity  flows  without  in- 
terruption, and  wealth  seems  to  come  spontaneously  ;— 
"  a  time  to  get."  But  by  and  by  a  turn  takes  place  in 
the  tide,  and  there  comes  "  a  time  to  lose."  All  is  un- 
propitious.  Nothing  does  well.  Sudden  and  unlooked- 
for  reverses  take  away  at  once  the  produce  of  manv 
years  of  industrious  application  ;— or  a  continued  run 
of  ill  fortune,  as  the  world  call  it,  but  in  which  the  man 
of  piety  will  mark  and  acknov.'ledge  the  orderings  of 
providence,  drains  it  off  by  slow  but  sure  degrees. 
Riches,  which  have  been  accumulated  during  a  long 
period  of  persevering  labour,  "  make  to  themselves 
wings  and  fly  away  as  an  eagle  towards  heaven  ;"— got^ 
ten  in  years,— lost  in  a  day  :— or  a  fortune  obtained  at 
once,  is  no  sooner  in  possession^  than  it  begins  to  di- 


ilO  LECTURE  V. 

minish ;  the  "  time  to  lose"  commences,  and  ceases 
not '  till  all  is  gone, — and  gone,  it  can  hardly  be  told 
how. 

"  A  time  to  keep,  and  a  time  to  cast  away  :"— a 
time,  when  particular  earthly  possessions  give  us  plea- 
sure,  and  we  keep  them  ;  and  a  time  when,  from  sa- 
tiety, or  change  of  taste  and  character,  they  cease  to 
please,  and  we  cast  them  away : — a  time  when  the 
bounties  of  heaven  are  retained  with  gratitude,  as  valu- 
able and  useful ;  and  a  time  when  duty  may  require  us 
to  relinquish  all  that  we  have,  that  we  may  not  violate  the 
dictates  of  conscience,  or  incur  the  forfeiture  of  more 
precious  and  more  lasting  blessings  ; — or  when  life 
comes  to  be  in  danger,  and  for  its  preservation,  pro- 
perty of  every  kind  will  be  readily  thrown  away  from 
us,  as,  in  the  comparison,  unworthy  of  a  moment's 
thought.— Thus,  many  have  made  a  cheerful  sacrifice 
of  things  seen  and  temporal  for  the  sake  of  things  un- 
seen and  ecernal ;  and  many  more  have  shown  the  truth 
of  the  proverb,  "  all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for 
his*  life." — Paul  ^'  counted  all  things  but  loss  for  the 
excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  his  Lord;" 
nay,  "  suffered  for  him  the  loss  of  all  things,  and  counted 
them  but  dung  that  he  might  win  Christ,  and  be  found 
in  him."  The  believing  Hebrews  *'  took  joyfully  the 
spoiling  of  their  goods,  knowing  in  themselves,  that 
they  had  in  heaven  a  better  and  an  enduring  substance." 
On  the  voyage  of  the  apostle  to  Rome,  the  wheat  was 
cast  out  into  the  sea,  and  the  tackling  of  the  ship  fol- 
lowed it,  to  lighten  the  vessel  during  the  raging  storm ; 
and  whatever  property  had  been  on  board  would  have 
shared  th.e  same  fate,  M'hen  life  was  in  jeopardy. — 
What  changes  do  varying  circumstances  produce  in 
the  value  we  attach  to  our  possessions !  All  such  value 


ECCLES.  III.   1-— 15.  Ill 

is  relative.  We  keep  the  smaller  blessing,  when  it 
docs  not  come  into  competition  with  the  greater,  but 
when  the  former  cannot  be  kept,  but  at  the  hazard, 
and  far  more  at  the  certainty,  of  losing  the  latter,  it  is 
"  a  time  to  cast  away." 

''A  time  to  rend,  and  a  time  to  sew."  This  does 
not  seem  to  mean  merely  that  garments,  carefully  and 
skillfully  sewed,  will  in  time  wear,  and  become  fit  for 
nothing  but  being  rent  in  pieces  for  other  purposes. 
There  appears  to  be  a  reference  to  the  practice,  so  often 
exempHfied  in  the  history,  and  alluded  to  in  the  other 
parts  of  Scripture,  of  rending  the  garments,  as  an  ex- 
pression of  strong  emotion,  especially  of  grief  and 
vexation  of  spirit. — Thus,  Reuben  rent  his  clothes, 
when  he  found  not  Joseph  in  the  pit ;  and  his  agonized 
fither,  when  he  saw  the  bloody  vestment  of  his  fa- 
vourite son.* — David  rent  his  clothes,  when  he  mourn- 
ed for  Saul  and  Jonathan  ;  when  he  followed  the  bier 
of  the  murdered  Abner ;  and  when  he  received  the  false 
intelligence  of  the  slaughter  of  all  his  sons  by  the  rebe! 
Absalom. t — Eliphaz,  and  Bildad,  and  Zophar,  at  the 
distant  sight  of  their  sadly  altered  friend,  "  lifted  up 
their  voices,  and  wept,  and  rent  every  one  his  mantle, 
and  sprinkled  dust  upon  their  heads  towards  heaven. ":[: 
—The  high  priest  Caiaphas,  in  real  or  feigned  emotion 
of  indignant  grief,  rent  his  clothes,  when  Jesus  owned 
himself  the  Son  of  God,  and  announced  his  coming  in 
the  clouds  of  heaven,  and  sitting  on  the  right  hand  oi' 
power.  H— The  instances  of  the  practice,  indeed,  are  fre- 
quent;—and,  with  allusion  to  it,  God,  by  the  prophet 
Joel,  thus  calls  Israel  to  repentance,  and  warns  them 
against  the  hypocrisy  of  the   outward  token,  without 

*  Gen.  xxxvii.  29,  34,  f  2  Sam.  i.  11.  lii,  31.  xui,  3!. 

+  Jobii.l2.  II  Matt.xxvi.  65. 


112  LECTURE  V. 

the  inward  feeling :  "  Turn  ye  even  to  me  with  all 
your  heart,  and  with  fasting,  and  with  weeping,  and 
with  mourning  ;— and  rend  your  hearts,  and  not  your 
garments,  and  turn  unto  the  Lord  your  God  ;  for  he  is 
gracious  and  merciful,  slow  to  anger,  and  of  great  kind- 
ness, and  repenteth  him  of  the  evil."*— There  were 
times,  then,  of  ordinary  health  and  enjoyment,  when 
clothes  were  made,  and  worn ;  and  there  were  times 
of  calamity  and  grief,  when  they  were  rent  asunder. 
Even  the  garments  of  festivity,  and  the  robes  of  roy- 
alty, were  not  exempted  from  such  deforming  violence ; 
prosperity,  and  honour,  and  power,  affording  no  secu- 
rity from  change  and  suffering. 

"  A  time  to  keep  silence,  and  a  time  to  speak." — 
There  is  a  time  to  keep  silence,  from  disinclination  to 
speak  ;  and  a  time  when  speaking  would  be  dangerous 
or  hurtful,  and  silence  is  imposed  by  prudence  and 
necessity. — There  is  a  time  when  affliction  strikes  us 
dumb  ;  when  the  spirit  is  oppressed,  and  the  opening  of 
the  mouth  to  speak  is  an  unwilling  and  painful  effort : 
and  there  is  a  time  of  deliverance,  when  the  heart  is 
lightened,  and  the  lips  are  opened  to  utter  the  praises 
of  the  Lord,  to  tell  of  his  kindness,  and  to  join  in  the 
cheerful  conversation  of  life.  All  are  sensible,  that  si- 
lence is  one  of  the  natural  expressions  of  heavy  afflic- 
tion of  heart,  and  that  clamorous  sorrow  is  seldom  deep. 
— ^'  Assemble  yourselves,  and  let  us  enter  into  the  de- 
fenced  cities,  and  let  us  be  silent  there  ;  for  the  Lord 
our  God  hath  put  us  to  silence,  and  given  us  water  of 
gall  to  drink,  because  we  have  sinned  against  the  Lord."t 
"  It  is  good  for  a  man  that  he  bare  the  yoke  in  his  youth. 
He  sitteth  alone,  and  keepeth  silence,  because  he  hath 
borne  it  upon  him."|    "  I  was  dumb  with  silence;   I 

♦  Joel  ii.  12,  13.  t  Jer.  viii.  14.  t  Lam.  iii.  27,  t:8 


ECCLES.  III.   1 i5.  113 

held  my  peace,  even  from  good ;  and  my  sorrow  was 
stirred."* — Again  : — there  are  times  of  cordial  friend- 
ship, and  unanimity,  and  safety,  when  there  is  room  for 
open  confidence,  and  unreserved  communication  ;  and 
there  are  times  of  alienation,  division,  and  danger,  when 
the  lips  must  be  sealed,  and  silence  is  the  only  security ; 
when  life,  and  all  that  a  man  holds  dear,  may  be  jeo- 
parded by  a  whisper.  *'  Therefore  the  prudent  shall 
keep  silence  in  that  time  ;  for  it  is  an  evil  time."f 
"  Trust  ye  not  in  a  friend,  put  ye  not  confidence  in  a 
guide  ;  keep  the  doors  of  thy  mouth  from  her  that  lieth 
in  thy  bosom.  For  the  son  dishonoureth  the  father,  the 
daughter  riseth  up  against  her  mother,  the  daughter- 
in-law  against  her  mother-in-law ;  a  man's  enemies  are 
the  men  of  his  own  house.  "J 

*^  A  time  to  love,  and  a  time  to  hate." 
It  ought  to  have  been  remarked  earlier,  as  one  of  the 
necessary  principles  of  interpretation  for  these  verses, 
that  Solomon  is  not  to  be  considered  as  speaking  of 
what  God  allowed,  or  approved,  in  the  conduct  of 
men ;  of  times  when  all  these  things  might  lawfully 
be  done.  He  speaks  merely  of  times  when  there  is  oc- 
casion, or  necessity,  for  them,  or  of  powerful  tempta- 
tion, if  the  things  are  wrong  in  themselves,  to  the  doing 
of  them. — There  is  a  time  to  love  ;  a  time,  that  is, 
when  we  experience  treatment  of  which  the  tendency 
is  to  excite  gratitude  and  affection ; — treatment,  of 
which  love  is  the  suitable  return  : — and  there  is  a  time 
to  hate  5 — not  when  hatred  becomes  a  right  and  justi- 
fiable feeling;  for  the  law  of  God  expressly  prohibits 
our  "  hating  our  brother  in  our  heart,  or  bearing  any 
inward  grudge  against  him,"  and  commands  us  to 
"  love  not  our  neighbour  only,  but  our  enemy ;  to 

*  Psal,  xxxis,  2-  f  Amos  v.  IS,  t  Xlicah  vii.  5,  6 

P 


114  LECTURE  V. 

bless  them  that  curse  us,  to  do  good  to  them  that  hate 
us,  and  to  pray  for  them  that  despitefuUy  use  us,  and 
persecute  us  ;"*— but  a  time  when  the  conduct  of  others 
towards  us  is  such  as  tends  to  engender  hatred,  to  em- 
bitter and  alienate  our  spirits  ;  when  even  the  objects 
of  our  love  may  become  the  objects  of  our  dislike  and 
aversion. — The  words,  indeed,  are  general,  and  may 
include  the  feelings  of  others  toward  us,  as  well  as  ours 
toward  them.  ^'  There  is  a  time  to  love  ;"  when  we 
may  be  the  objects  of  the  favourable  regard  of  others  ; 
— ^'  and  a  time  to  hate ;"  when  we  may  be  the  victims 
of  their  unmerited  enmity. 

**  A  time  of  war,  and  a  time  of  peace  :" — a  time 
when,  through  the  "  lusts  that  war  in  men's  members," 
overruled  by  the  providence  of  God,  "  wars  and  fight- 
ings"  arise  ;  when  a  nation  must  defend  itself,  or  pe- 
rish ;  when  the  church  of  God  is  persecuted  and  wasted 
by  an  ungodly  world  ;  when  individuals,  however  de- 
sirous to  "  live  peaceably  with  all  men,"  find  it  impos- 
sible ;— *'  they  are  for  peace  ;  but,  when  they  speak, 
others  are  for  war  :"f — and  a  time,  when  Jehovah 
"  breaketh  the  bow,  cutteth  the  spear  in  sunder,  burneth 
the  chariot  in  the  fire,  and  maketh  wars  to  cease  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth  ;"--when  smiling  peace  returns  to 
bless  a  harassed  and  exhausted  land;  when  the  churches 
have  rest,  and  are  edified,  and,  '*  walking  in  the  fear  of 
God,  and  in  the  comforts  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  are  mul- 
tiplied ;"  when  the  desires  of  the  man  of  quietness  are 
gratified,  when  God  "  makes  even  his  enemies  to  be 
at  peace  with  him,",  and  gives  him  the  hearts  of  those 
that  hated  him. 

Considering,  theti,  this  instability  and  incessant  fluc- 
tuation of  earthly  affairs,  which,  beginning  with  the 

*  Lev.  xis.  17,  18,  Matt,  v.  44  i  Psal.csx.  7. 


ECCLES.  III.  1— -15.  115 

'*  time  to  be  born,"  continue  to  present  a  scene  of  per- 
petual insecurity  and  change,  till  the  "  time  to  die  ;" 
and,  considering  that  all  is  in  the  hand  of  God,  all  un- 
der his  sovereign  control,  who  has  said,  "  My  counsel 
shall  stand,  and  1  will  do  all  my  pleasure:" — Solomon 
repeats  the  question,  which  he  had  asked  repeatedly 
before,  *•'  What  profit  hath  he  that  worketh,  in  that 
wherein  he  laboureth  ?"* — and  confirms  the  sentence 
of  "  vanity,"  which  this  question  involves,  by  a  re- 
newed appeal  to  his  own  extensive  experience  and  ob- 
servation : — verse  10.  "  I  have  seen  the  travail  which 
God  hath  given  to  the  sons  of  men,  to  be  exercised 
in  it." 

He  had  himself  seen  all  that  he  had  just  enumerated. 
He  had  seen  many  born,  and  many,  at  every  period  of 
life  die ; — he  had  seen  trees  planted  by  one  man,  and 
rooted  up  by  another,  or  even  by  the  planter  himself; — 
at  one  time,  he  had  seen  life  preserved  with  little  diffi- 
culty, and,  at  another,  all  human  means  expended  in 
vain  ; — he  had  himself  broken  down  what  others  had 
built  up,  and  built  up  what  others  had  broken  down  ;— 
he  had  seen  festivity  and  gladness  turned  suddenly  to 
sackcloth  and  ashes,  and  he  had  seen  "  weeping  endure 
for  a  night,  and  joy  come  in  the  morning;"— he  had 
seen  covenants  ratified  and  memorials  of  them  erected, 
and  covenants  annulled  or  broken,  and  their  memorials 
overthrown  ;  trophies  of  triumph  reared,  and  anon  the 
victors  vanquished,  and  their  trophies  laid  in  the  dust, 
and  swept  into  oblivion  ; — he  had  seen  the  delights  of 
friendship  and  love  enjoyed  in  their  full  perfection,  with 
a  free  and  bounding  spirit,  and  he  had  seen  even  these 
delights  for  a  time  deprived  of  their  relish  ; — he  had  seen 
fortunes  made,  and  fortunes  lost ;  possessions  retained 

,  *  Chap.  ii.  23.    i.  3. 


116  LECTURE  V. 

for  a  while  with  solicitous  vigilance,  and  then  relin- 
quished for  a  good  conscience,  or  cast  away  for  self- 
preservation  ; — he  had  seen  times  of  talkative  pros- 
perity, succeeded  by  seasons  of  speechless  distress;  and 
times  of  safety,  and  openness,  and  confidence,  by  pe- 
riods of  peril,  and  secrecy,  and  apprehension  ; — he  had 
seen  times  of  kindness  and  gratitude,  and  times  of  un- 
kindness  and  alienation  ;— he  had  seen  the  bloody  wars 
of  his  flither  David,  followed  by  the  promised  tran- 
quillity of  his  own  reign. 

In  the  midst  of  this  perpetual  vicissitude,  the  minds 
of  men  may  often  be  perplexed  and  at  a  stand.  It  may 
seem  to  their  eyes,  a  scene  of  inextricable  confusion. 
But  it  is  not  so  to  the  eye  of  Him  who  superintends 
and  directs  the  whole  : — 

Verse  11.  "  He  hath  made  every  thing  beautiful  in 
his  time  :  also  he  hath  set  the  world  in  their  heart ;  so 
that  no  man  can  find  out  the  work  that  God  raaketh, 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end." 

*'  He  hath  made  every  thing  beautiful  in  his"  (or 
its)  "  season." — This  phraseology  is  evidently  to  be 
connected  with  the  first  verse  of  the  chapter,  and  it 
confirms  the  interpretation  given  of  it,  as  having  refer- 
ence to  the  arrangements  of  Divine  providence.  '^  To 
every  thing  there  is  a  season ;"  and  He  by  whom  the 
^'  times  and  seasons"  are  fixed,  orders  them  all  accord- 
ing to  his  infinite  wisdom.    All  is  beautiful  harmony  ; 

"  All  chance,  direction  which  we  cannot  see." 

Set  down  a  man  ignorant  of  mechanics  in  the  midst  of 
a  system  of  extensive  and  complicated  machinery  ;  and 
he  will  gaze  about  him  in  vacant  wonder,  all  appearing 
to  his  dizzy  and  stupified  sight,  involved  and  intricate 
perplexity.    But  introduce  an  experienced  machinist ; 


EccLES.  ni.  1 — 15.  117 

and  by  the  hasty  glances  of  a  few  moments,  he  discerns 
the  proportions,  and  relations,  and  mutual  dependen- 
cies of  all  the  parts, — the  connexion  of  the  whole  with 
the  great  moving  power,  and  its  perfect  adaptation  to  a 
proposed  end ;  and  his  mind  is  delighted  with  the  ad- 
mirable display  of  contrivance  and  skill.— Creatures 
like  us,  in  contemplating  the  Divine  procedure,  are  in 
the  situation  of  the  former.  The  scheme  of  providence 
may  appear  to  us  a  maze  of  endless  confusion,  and  even 
at  times  of  jarring  inconsistency, — one  part  frequently 
crossing  and  counteracting  another.  But  the  sole  cause 
of  this  is  our  ignorance  ;  the  very  limited  and  partial 
views  which  we  are  able  to  take  of  it.    It  is  because, 
as  Solomon  here  expresses  it,  "  we  cannot  find  out  the 
work  that  God  doeth  from  the  beginning  to  the  end." 
Had  we  powers  that  enabled  us  to  take  a  full  and  com- 
prehensive and  connected  view  of  the  whole,-— from  the 
originally  proposed  design,  through  all  the  successive 
steps  of  its  progressive  development,  to  its  final  and 
entire  completion  ; — we  should  see  "  every  thing  beau- 
tiful in  its  season,"— a  perfect  and  delightful  harmony, 
complicated  indeed,  but  in  proportion  as  it  is  compli- 
cated  the  more  astonishing,  in  all  the  affairs  of  worlds, 
and    kingdoms,    and   families,  and   individuals ;— we 
should  be  at  once  satisfied  that  there  is  nothing  \\  ant- 
ing, and  nothing  useless,— nothing  that  could  have  been 
otherwise  than  it  is,  without  irregularity  and  detriment. 
But  to  such  a  view  no  powers  are  adequate  but  those 
of  Deity  ;  and  we  must  in  general  content  ourselves 
with  the  assurance  of  faith  that  "  the  Lord  reigneth," 
and  that  **  what  we  know  not  now  we  shall  know  here, 
after." 

A  particular  consideration,   however,  is  here  sug- 
'gested,  as  affecting  our  views  of  the  Divine  govern- 


il8  LECTURE  Tc 

ment,  and  preventing  our  observation  of  it  from  being 
even  so  correct  and  extensive  as  it  otherwise  might  be. 
This  is  probably  the  idea  expressed  by  the  obscure 
words,—*'  also  he  hath  set  the  world  in  their  heart,  so 
that  men  cannot  find  out  the  work  that  God  doeth  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end." — I  wish  to  be  guided,  in  the 
explanation  of  difficult  expressions,  by  a  regard  to  the 
connexion  in  which  they  stand,  and  to  adopt  the  view 
which  appears  in  itself  the  simplest,  and  the  most  con- 
sonant to  the  object  of  the  writer.  Following  this  prin- 
ciple, I  would  remark, 

In  the  first  place.  From  our  necessary  connexion 
with  the  world,  our  hearts,  indisposed  as  they  are  to 
look  above  and  beyond  it,  get  so  much  entangled  in 
its  various  concerns,  so  much  occupied  about  the  ob- 
jects themselves  which  it  presents  to  our  desire  and  pur- 
suit and  enjoyment,  that  we  are  ever  prone  to  overlook 
the  operations  of  God's  hands,— not  to  take  time  to 
contemplate  and  examine  them  with  sufficient  atten- 
tion;—to  satisfy  ourselves  with  hasty  and  superficial 
glances,  instead  of  a  close  and  careful  investigation. 
But  this  can  never  do.  Of  a  system  so  involved  and  so 
extended,  it  is,  in  the  nature  of  things,  impossible  to 
obtain  any  thing  approaching  to  a  comprehensive  and 
accurate  understanding,  without  a  large  measure  of 
attentive  consideration,  humbly  and  devoutly  bestowed. 

In  the  second  place.  From  our  diversified  attach- 
ments to  the  persons  and  things  of  the  world,  we  are 
rendered  partial  in  our  judgments  of  the  Divine  proce- 
dure ;  our  minds  are  biassed  and  warped  ;  our  reason 
becomes  the  dupe  of  our  feelings  : — so  that,  what  to  a 
neutral  spectator  would  appear  the  appointment  of  per- 
fect wisdom,  we  are  hindered  from  perceiving,  or  hesi- 
tate to  acknowledge;  to  be  so,  from  our  happening,  in 


ECCLES.  in.  1 — 15.  119 

so  great  a  variety  of  ways,  to  be  interested,  and  from 
our  intellectual  vision  being  thus  shortened  and  dis- 
torted. 

It  by  no  means  follows,  that,  if  such  causes  of  par- 
tiality and  short-sightedness  were  removed,  we  should 
have  a  complete  comprehension  of  this  subject.  No. 
Our  faculties  are  still  limited.  They  are  the  faculties 
of  creatures,  and  incapable,  (as  those  must  be  even  of 
Intelligences  much  more  exalted  than  we  are,)  of  cm- 
bracing  the  plans  of  the  omniscient  God.  But  without 
doubt,  the  removal  of  such  causes  would  render  our 
views  inconceiveably  more  just  and  more  extensive 
than  they  are. 

But  it  may  naturally  be  asked.  How  can  the  blessed 
God  be  with  propriety  represented  as  thus  *^  setting  the 
world  in  men's  hearts  ?" — I  reply,  by  observing  ;  that 
the  world,  in  a  vast  variety  of  its  objects  of  desire  and 
pursuit,  not  only  lawfully  may,  but  necessarily  must, 
interest  our  hearts,  and  engage  much  of  our  attention. 
Its  legitimate  and  needful  occupations  arc  numerous, 
and  there  are  not  a  few,  which  it  is  even  our  indispen- 
sable duty  to  mind.— And  further,  although  God  has 
set  the  world  before  men,  and  filled  it  with  desirable 
objects  and  sources  of  gratification,  and  has  so  consti- 
tuted and  so  situated  its  inhabitants,  as  that  they  must 
be  engaged  about  it,  he  is  not  justly  chargeable  with 
the  partialities  and  excesses  of  men's  attachment  to  it, 
or  with  their  blinding  and  perverting  influence; — an 
influence  which  arises  from  the  absence  or  the  imper- 
fection of  a  right  disposition  of  heart. 

In  the  two  following  verses;  the  secret  is  repeated, 
of  deriving  from  temporal  things  the  measure  and  kind 
of  happiness  which,  from  their  nature,  they  are  capable 
of  bestowing :— »"  I  know  that  there  is  no  good  in  them, 


1^0  LECTURE  V. 

but  for  a  man  to  rejoice  and  to  do  good  in  his  life  ;  and 
also,  that  every  man  should  eat  and  drink,  and  enjoy  the 
good  of  all  his  labour;  it  is  the  gift  of  God." 

Solomon,  in  these  words,  sums  up  the  uses  of  the 
things  of  the  world.  He  declares  all  the  good  that  is  in 
them.  It  consists  in  two  particulars  ;  one  of  which  he 
had  mentioned  before,  and  the  other  is  here  added  to 
it.  The  former  is,  the  unsolicitous  and  cheerful  enjoy- 
ment of  whatever  the  providence  of  God  is  pleased  to 
bestow.  This  is  what  he  means  by  a  man's  "  eating 
and  drinking,  and  enjoying  the  good  of  all  his  labour," 
without  forgetting  that  *^  it  is  the  gift  of  God."— It  is 
the  same  sentiment  as  in  the  close  of  the  preceding 
chapter :  *'  There  is  nothing  better  for  a  man,  than  that 
he  should  eat  and  drink,  and  that  he  should  make  his 
soul  enjoy  good  in  his  labour.  This  also  I  saw,  that  it 
was  from  the  hand  of  God."  Of  this  sentiment  I  shall 
not  resume  the  explanation  given  in  last  lecture.  But 
in  the  verses  now  before  ns,  an  addition  is  made  to  it; 
or  rather  something  more  is  directly  expressed,  which 
ought  formerly  to  have  been  considered  as  implied  in 
a  man's  "  making  his  soul  enjoy  good  in  his  labour:" 
for  how  can  he  do  so  without  the  exercise  of  benevo- 
lence ?  The  contracted  spirit  of  selfishness  can  never 
be  a  happy  spirit.  If  a  man  would  truly  "  rejoice"  in 
the  reception  and  use  of  the  bounties  of  heaven,  he  must 
not  shut  his  heart  and  hand  from  God  and  his  fellow- 
creatures,  and  expend  all  upon  self:  he  must  "  do 
good  in  his  life." 

Cheerfulness  of  heart  in  enjoying  the  fruits  of  the 
Divine  goodness,  is  a  duty  which  we  owe  to  the  Giver, 
accompanied,  as  it  ought  to  be,  with  the  spirit  of  hum- 
ble dependence  and  grateful  acknowledgment.  When 
the  Israelites  were  to  bring  their  basket  of  first-fruits 


ECCLES.  III.   1—15.  ISi 

before  the  Lord,  confessing  their  faith,  recognizing 
and  avowing  their  obligations  to  the  power  and  faithful- 
ness and  kindness  of  the  God  of  their  fathers,  and  per- 
forming  their  act  of  public  homage  to  his  Name,  such 
holy  cheerfulness  was  expressly  enjoined  upon  them  : — 
*'  Thou  shalt  rejoice,"  says  Moses,  "  in  every  good 
thing  which  the  Lord  thy  God  hath  given  unto  thee, 
and  unto  thy  house,  thou,  and  the  Levite,  and  the 
stranger  that  is  among  you."  But  this  rejoicing  was  to 
be  connected  with  their  devoting  a  liberal  allowance  of 
the  Divine  bounty  for  the  benefit  of  others  :— '^  When 
thou  hast  made  an  end  of  tithing  all  the  tithes  of  thine 
increase  of  the  third  year,  which  is  the  year  of  tithing, 
and  hast  given  it  unto  the  Levite,  the  stranger,  the 
fatherless,  and  the  widow,  that  they  may  eat  within  thy 
gates  and  be  filled  :  then  thou  shalt  say  before  the  Lord 
thy  God,  I  have  brought  away  the  hallowed  things  out 
of  my  house,  and  also  have  given  them  to  the  Levite^ 
to  the  stranger,  the  fatherless,  and  the  widow,  accord- 
ing to  all  thy  commandments  which  thou  hast  com- 
manded  me.  I  have  not  transgressed  thy  command- 
ments,  neither  have  I  forgotten  (them.")*~This  is  one 
of  the  proper  uses  of  God's  bounty.  He  gives,  to  ena- 
ble us  to  give ;  he  blesses,  that  we  may  be  a  blessing. 
And  a  compliance,  from  right  principles,  with  the  de- 
sign of  the  Giver,  renders  his  bounty,  to  him  who  pos- 
sesses it,  a  source  of  the  purest  and  most  exquisite  en- 
joyment. "  It  is  more  blessed,"  said  the  Lord  Jesus, 
^'  to  give,  than  to  receive  :"— and  the  saying,  infinitely 
worthy  of  Him  who  set  us  so  wonderful  an  example  of 
disinterested  beneficence,  has  been  found  true  in  the 
sweet  experience  of  every  man  who  has  laid  himself 
out,  in  the  use  of  his  substance,  as  far  as  God  has  pros- 

*  neat.  xxvi.  10—13. 

Q 


i22  LECTURE  T. 

nered  him,  for  the  welfare  of  all  within  the  reach  of  his 
influence.  This  is  incomparably  more  satisfying,  both 
in  the  act,  and  in  the  reflection,  than  any  gratification 
of  selfishness,  than  any  indulgence  of  "  the  lust  of  the 
flesh,  or  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  or  the  pride  of  life."— 
"  Charge  them  that  are  rich  in  this  world,"  therefore. 
^^  that  they  be  not  high-minded,  nor  trust  in  uncertain 
riches,  but  in  the  living  God,  who  giveth  us  richly  all 
things  to  enjoy ;  that  they  do  good,  that  they  be  rich 
in  good  works,  ready  to  distribute,  willing  to  commu- 
nicate ;  laying  up  in  store  for  themselves  a  good  foun- 
dation against  the  time  to  come,  that  they  may  lay  hold 
on  eternal  life."* 

To  the  present  enjoyment  and  the  present  use  of  the 
gifts  of  God,  we  should  be  excited  by  the  truth  illus- 
trated in  the  preceding  part  of  the  chapter ;  the  abso- 
lute and  uncontrollable  nature  of  God's  purposes  and 
dispensations.  They  cannot  be  altered  or  turned  aside 
by  any  effort  of  human  power,  or  of  human  wisdom. 
It  may  be  His  sovereign  intention,  soon  to  order  a 
change  in  our  situation  ;  soon  to  deprive  us  of  our  pre- 
sent sources  of  enjoyment,  and  means  of  usefulness. 
And  what  a  sad  thing  will  it  be,  if  it  shall  be  found, 
that,  during  our  time  of  permitted  possession,  we  have 
not  properly  improved  his  goodness,  either  for  our- 
selves, for  others,  or  for  Him  !— It  is  this  consideration, 
of  the  immutability  of  Divine  purposes,  that  is  urged 
upon  our  attention  in 

Verse  14.  *'  I  know  that  whatsoever  God  doeth,  it 
shall  be  for  ever :  nothing  can  be  put  to  it,  nor  any 
thing  taken  from  it;  and  God  doeth  it,  that  men  should 
fear  before  him."—"  It  shall  be  forever."  It  must  stand. 
It  is  beyond  the  reach  of  all  created  power,  to  prevent 

*   1  Tim,  vi.  ir— 19. 


ECCLES.  III.   1 15.  1S8 

or  to  alter  it.  "  The  counsel  of  the  Lord  standeth  for 
ever;  the  thoughts  of  his  heart  to  all  generations." 
*  He  doeth  according  to  his  will,  in  the  army  of  hea- 
ven, and  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth ;  and  none 
can  stay  his  hand,  or  say  unto  him,  Whatdoest  thou  ?" 
**  Remember  the  former  things  of  old  ;  for  I  am  God, 
and  there  is  none  else ;  I  am  God,  and  there  is  none 
like  me ;  declaring  the  end  from  the  beginning,  and 
from  ancient  times  the  things  that  are  not  yet  done, 
saying,  My  counsel  shall  stand,  and  I  will  do  all  my 
pleasure."* 

*'  Nothing  can  be  put  to  it,  nor  any  thing  taken  from 
it." — These  words  might  be  interpreted  of  the  perfec- 
tion of  God's  purposes  ;  their  being,  in  every  respect, 
so  excellent,  that  to  add  to  them,  or  to  take  from  them, 
would  be  to  deteriorate  and  destroy  them.  But  in  the 
<:onnection  in  which  they  stand  here,  they  seem  rather 
intended  to  express  the  impossibility  of  altering  these 
purposes ;  the  folly  of  attempting,  or  even  of  imagining, 
such  a  thing  for  a  moment.  The  Supreme  Ruler  forms 
his  determinations,  and  arranges  his  plans,  without  the 
counsel  of  any  created  being ;  for  "  who  hath  directed 
the  Spirit  of  the  Lord,  or,  being  his  counsellor,  hath 
taught  him  ?  With  whom  took  he  counsel,  or  who  in- 
structed him,  and  taught  him  in  the  path  of  j  udgment,  and 
taught  him  knowledge,  and  showed  to  him  the  way  of 
understanding?" — No  wisdom,  and  no  power,  of  any 
creature,  or  of  all  creatures  combined,  can  alter  them ; 
no,  not  a  single  hair's  breadth.  Nothing  can  be  added, 
nothing  taken  away.  **  There  are  many  devices  in  a 
man's  heart ;  nevertheless,  the  counsel  of  the  Lord,  that 
shall  stand."  "  There  is  no  wisdom,  nor  understanding, 
nor  counsel  against  the  Lord."    "  Surely  the  wrath  of 

*  Psal.  xxxiii,  11,    Dan,  iv.  35,    Isa.  xlvi.  9,  10. 


l^^j  LECTUIIB  V. 

man  shall  praise  thee  ;  the  remahider  of  wrath  wilt  thou 
restrain."  "  Shall  the  axe  boast  itself  against  him  that 
heweth  therewith?  or  shall  the  saw  magnify  itself  against 
him  that  shaketh  it?  as  if  the  rod  should  shake  itself 
against  them  that  lift  it  up,  or  as  if  the  staff  should  lift 
up  itself  as  if  it  were  no  wood!"  The  last  passage  is 
part  of  the  spirited  reply  to  the  boasted  arrogance  of  the 
king  of  Assyria,  who  indulged  his  own  proud  and  in- 
satiable ambition,  gloried  in  past  success,  and  exulted 
in  confident  anticipation,  having  it  ^'  in  his  heart  to  de- 
stroy and  cut  off  nations  not  a  few ;"  but  whose  unprin^ 
cipled  passions  were  all  the  while,  though  "  he  meant 
not  so,  neither  did  his  heart  think  so,"  subserving  the 
secret  purposes  of  Jehovah.* 

The  proper  influence  of  the  contemplation  of  God's 
uncontrollable  sovereignty,  and  of  the  utter  impotence 
of  human  power  and  wisdom  to  effect  any  change  in 
his  purposes,  is  to  fill  the  heart  with  "  reverence  and 
godly  fear  :"— "  God  doeth  it  that  men  may  fear  be- 
fore  him." — All  the  displays  of  his  absolute  supremacy 
over  his  creatures,  should  have  this  effect :  and  the  more 
we  accustom  ourselves  to  the  contemplation  of  them, 
and  of  the  numberless  indications  of  our  entire  and  un- 
ceasing dependence,  the  more  will  our  minds  become 
imbued  with  the  sentiments  of  religious  awe  ;  the  more 
will  we  "  sanctify  the  Lord  God  in  our  hearts,  and 
make  him  our  fear  and  our  dread ;"  and  adopt,  with 
the  deeper  humility,  the  language  of  sublime  adoration  : 
f^  Great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works.  Lord  God  Al- 
mighty  ;  just  and  true  are  thy  ways,  thou  king  of  saints. 
Who  shall  not  fear  thee,  O  Lord,  and  glorify  thy  name  ? 
for  thou  only  art  holy  !"f 

*  See  Isa.  x.  5—15.    Prov.  xls.  21.  sxi.  10.    Tsal.  Ixxvi.  10. 
t  Rev.  XV.  3,  4. 


ECCLES.  III.   1 — 15.  125 

The  fifteenth  verse  is  very  nearly  a  repetition  of  the 
sentiment  expressed  in  the  ninth  and  tenth  verses  of  the 
first  chapter.  There  he  had  said,  "The  thing  which 
hath  been,  is  that  which  shall  be ;  and  that  which  is 
done,  is  that  which  shall  be  done :  and  there  is  no  new 
thing  under  the  sun.  Is  there  any  thing  whereof  it  may 
be  said,  See,  this  is  new  ?  It  hath  been  already  of  old 
time,  which  was  before  us."  Here  he  says,  more  briefly, 
"  That  which  hath  been,  is  now  ;  and  that  which  is  to 
be  hath  already  been;  and  God  requireth  that  which  is 
past." — God's  requiring,  or  recalling,  that  which  is 
past,  seems  simply  to  mean,  his  repeating  the  same 
scenes,  in  the  administration  of  his  providence,  through 
successive  generations.  The  general  plan  of  his  proce- 
dure is,  in  its  leading  features,  and  in  many  even  of  its 
minuter  details,  the  same  from  age  to  age,  so  as  to  pre- 
sent the  appearance,  described  by  various  similitudes 
in  the  opening  of  the  book,  of  constant  sameness  in 
the  midst  of  ceaseless  change.  As  in  surveying  the 
endless  variety  of  the  works  of  nature,  we  can  discern, 
pervading  the  whole,  the  clearest  indications  of  the 
same  great  principles  of  operation,  leading  us  to  the 
adoring  acknowledgment  of  one  almighty  and  all-wise 
Intelligence ;  so  may  we,  in  the  course  of  the  Divine 
government  of  our  world,  discover,  amidst  all  the 
changes  of  its  eventful  history,  abundant  evidence,  that 
the  same  God  continues  to  reign.  Few  indeed  are  the 
events  that  occur  in  any  age,  which  may  not  find  their 
parallels,  or  at  least,  their  resemblances,  in  the  annals 
of  preceding  times. 

The  passage  suggests  the  following  practical  reflec 
tions : — 

In  thejirst  place.  In  the  midst  of  the  vicissitudes  of 
this  incessantly  changing  world,  let  us  look  forward 


1^6  LECTURE  y. 

with  hope  and  joy  to  that  blessed  state,  where  changes 
shall  for  ever  cease ;  where  there  shall  be  the  fixed  se- 
curity  of  perfect,  unmingled,  and  unending  felicity.—- 
Here,  there  may  be  many  changes  to  the  better ;  there, 
every  change  would  be  to  the  worse,— every  alteration 
a  deduction  of  joy.  There,  there  will  be  no  plucking 
up  and  breaking  down  ;  no  losing  and  scattering ;  no 
weeping  and  mourning;  no  hatred  and  war;  no  re^ 
mains  of  the  curse,  because  no  remains  of  sin.  There 
shall  not  only  be  life,  but  immortality.  There  shall 
never  again  come  *'  a  time  to  die."  How  delightful, 
whilst  contemplating  and  experiencing  the  instability 
and  fickleness  of  earthly  things,  to  anticipate  that  ever- 
lasting rest ; — that  paradise,  of  which  the  trees  are  trees 
of  life,  that  shall  never  be  rooted  out  by  violence,  and 
never  yield  to  decay  ;— that  "city  which  hath  founda- 
tions," and  whose  walls  shall  never  be  shaken ;— that 
land  of  victory  and  triumph,  and  covenanted  peace, 
whose  trophies  and  memorials  shall  never  be  over- 
thrown and  scattered  ; — that  abode  of  joy,  where  there 
shall  never  come  to  its  happy  residents  "  a  time  to 
weep,"  for  "  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their 
eyes ;"  where  the  white  robes  of  purity  and  gladness 
shall  never  be  rent  asunder  by  the  intrusions  of  grief, 
for  "  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  flee  away  ;" — where  the 
silence  of  distrust  and  jealousy  shall  never  close  the 
Hps,  but  all  shall  be  "of  one  heart  and  of  one  soul,"— - 

"  Each  find  in  each  a  glowing  friend. 
And  all  the  God  of  all  adore !" 

And  when,  my  Christian  brethren,  wc  look  forward 
to  this  glorious  and  happy  state,  can  we  possibly  envy 
"  the  men  of  the  world  who  have  their  portion  in  this 
life  ?"  Do  you  not  rather  most  sincerely  pity  them  ?~ 
pity  them,  when  you  behold  them  seeking  their  happi. 


EccLEs.  m.  1 — i5.  127 

ness  amongst  such  transient  uncertainties?— pity  them, 
when  you  hear  them  repeating  the  universal  inquiry, 
*'  Who  will  shew  us  any  good?"  and  obtaining  no  sa- 
tisfactory answer;  "still  dreaming  on  that  they  shall 
still  succeed,  and  still"  miserably  "disappointed?"— 
the  unsubstantial  bubbles  of  earthly  joy  glittering,  it 
may  be,  for  the  moment,  in  rainbow  light,  but  all  suc- 
cessively bursting  and  vanishing.— O  that  men  would 
be  persuaded,  to  give  up  the  foolish  expectation  of  per- 
manent  satisfaction  from  those  things  that  "  perish  in 
the  using ;"— from  this  vain  and  unsettled  world, 


-"  whose  scenes  of  bliss  and  wo 


Are  shifting  every  fleeting  hour !" 

and  to  seek  true  happiness,  where  alone  it  is  to  be  found, 
in  the  favour  of  an  unchanging  God,  and  the  hope  of  an 
unchanging  heaven,— of  that  "life  and  incorruption, 
which  are  brought  to  light  by  the  gospel !" 

In  the  second  place.  Whilst  we  arc  tenants  of  this 
world,  it  will  be  well  for  us  to  expect  vicissitude, — to 
lay  our  account  with  changes.  This  will  serve  to  pre- 
vent our  being  unhinged  and  overwhelmed,  when  such 
changes  come,  as  those  are  apt  to  be,  by  whom  they 
have  never  been  anticipated.  Whilst,  in  the  season  of 
adversity,  we  comfort  ourselves  with  the  hope  that 
better  days  may  yet  await  us ;  that  light  may  arise  to 
us  out  of  darkness  ;  that  though  '*  weeping  may  endure 
for  a  night,  joy  shall  come  in  the  morning:"  let  us  also, 
in  the  lime  of  our  prosperity,  beware  of  saying,  with 
inconsiderate  confidence,  "  we  shall  never  be  moved," 
of  trusting  to  the  continuance  of  the  serene  calm,  or 
the  propitious  gale.  Let  us  be  always  on  the  look  out 
for  the  rising  cloud,  and  keep  our  vessel  in  trim  for  the 
storm.    In  prosperity,  let  us  be  ready  for  adversity ;  in 


128  LECTURE  V. 

health,  for  sickness ;  in  laughter,  for  mourhing;  in  life, 
for  death.—If  Providence  favours  us  with  "a  time  to 
get,"  let  us  calculate  on  the  world's  instability,  and  not 
be  astonished  and  disconcerted  if  there  should  come 
"a  time  to  lose."  When  we  are  in  circumstances  to 
plant  and  build,  let  us  not  forget  that  we  may  soon  be 
disinherited  of  our  estate,  and  obliged  to  quit  our  ha= 
bitation. 

In  the  third  place.  Whatever  changes  do  take  place, 
let  us  be  satisfied  with  the  providence  of  God. — 1  do  not 
mean  by  this,  that  we  should  merely  submit  from  ne- 
cessity—from a  feeling  forced  upon  us,  that  our  case 
cannot  be  helped,  and  cannot  be  altered,  and  that  there- 
fore repining  is  useless.  There  is  a  mighty  difference 
between  this  state  of  mind,  and  that  resignation  which 
springs  from  the  pious  assurance  that  all  God's  ways 
are  wisdom,  and  faithfulness,  and  love:  that  whilst  in 
his  administration,  *'  to  every  (thing  there  is)  a  season, 
and  a  time  for  every  purpose  under  the  sun,"  the  times 
and  the  seasons  are  all  determined  with  unerring  pro- 
priety,—all  as  they  ought  to  be.— This  is  the  satisfac- 
tion with  God's  providence  which  I  now  recommend. 
It  is,  "  having  faith  in  God  ;" — even  although  his  pro- 
cedure should  at  times  be  to  us  inscrutable,  yet 
"  against  hope  believing  in  hope,"  that  "  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  him,  to  them 
who  are  the  called  according  to  his  purpose;" — and,  in 
this  confidence,  being  ever  ready  to  say, 

"  Thy  ways,  great  God,  are  little  known 

To  my  weak,  erring  sight ; 
Yet  shall  my  soul,  believing,  ovirn. 

That  all  thy  ways  are  right." 

And  the  principles  of  this  confidence  we  may  and  ought 
to  apply  to  the  whole  of  the  Divine  procedure,  whether 


tCCLES.  III.  1 — 15.  1S9 

towards  individuals,  or  families,  or  nations,  or  Christian 
societies,  or  his  church  and  kingdom  in  the  world.  Let 
our  song  of  faith  ever  be,  "  Hallelujah  I  for  the  Lord 
God  omnipotent  reigneth  !" 

Thoughtless  sinners,  allow  me  to  remind  you,  that 
there  is  one  of  the  Divine  counsels,  respecting  which 
it  may,  with  peculiar  emphasis,  be  affirmed,   "  It  shall 
be  for  ever ;  nothing  can  be  added  to  it,  nor  any  thing 
taken  from  it." — It  was  his  purpose  from  eternity  to 
save  sinners  of  mankind  by  the  mediation  of  his  Son. 
And  when,  in  the  history  of  our  fallen  world,  "  the  ful- 
ness of  the  time  was  come,"  he  fulfilled  his  purpose  ; 
when  "  he  who  was  in  the  form  of  God,  and  thought 
it  not  robbery  to  be  equal  with  God,  made  himself  of 
no  reputation,  and  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant, 
and  was  made  in  the  likeness  of  men  ;  and,  being  found 
in  fashion  as  a  man,  humbled  himself  and  became  obe- 
dient unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross."  "  He 
was  wounded  for  our  transgressions,  he  was  bruised  for 
our  iniquities."  "  All  we  like  sheep  have  gone  astray ; 
we   have  turned  every  one  to  his  own  way;  and  the 
Lord  hath  laid  on  him  the  iniquity  of  us  all."     He 
finished  the  work  which  was  given  him  to  do.    In  that 
finished  work  Jehovah  is  well  pleased.  His  satisfactioa 
in  his  Son,  and  in  the  work  of  his  Son,  is  infinite  and 
everlasting.    Eternity  can  never  diminish  it.    And  his 
declared  determination  is  immutable  as  his  nature,  to 
receive  sinners  only  in  his  name,  and  for  his  sake  alone 
to ''  be  merciful  to  their  unrighteousnesses."  On  no  other 
ground  than  the  righteousness  and  atonement  of  the  Di- 
vine Mediator  will  he  admit  of  their  approach  into  his 
presence  ;  on  no  other  ground  will  he  listen  to  their 
pleadings  for  mercy  ;  on  no  other  ground  will  he  bless 
and  save  them.   The  foundation  which  God  has  laid  in 
R 


130  LECTURE  V.  UCCLES.  1—15^. 

Zion  for  the  hopes  of  sinners,  he  himself  has  declared 
to  be  ''  a  sure  foundation ;"  and  it  partakes  not  of  the 
instability  of  earthly  things.  It  can  never  be  swept 
away ;  and  what  is  built  upon  it  can  never  be  over- 
thrown. But  it  is  the  only  foundation.  ^'  Other  founda- 
tion can  no  man  lay  than  that  is  laid  ;  which  is  Jesus 
Christ."  You  can  add  nothing  to  the  work  which  he 
finished,  in  the  room  of  sinners,  on  the  cross  ;  and  you 
must  take  nothing  from  it.  You  must  rest  upon  it,  with 
humble  simplicity  of  heart,  as  it  is  revealed  in  the  gos- 
pel. The  purpose  of  God  is  firm  ;  it  cannot  be  altered. 
"  He  that  believeth  on  the  Son  is  not  condemned  :  but 
he  that  believeth  not  is  condemned  already,  because 
he  hath  not  believed  in  the  name  of  the  only-begotten 
Son  of  God."—**  He  that  believeth  on  the  Son  of  God 
hath  everlasting  life  ;  and  he  that  believeth  not  the  Son, 
shall  not  see  life,  but  the  wrath  of  God  abideth  on  him." 


LECTURE  VI. 


EccLES.  iii.  16 — 2S.  iv,  1 — 3, 

'26  "  And,  moreover,  I  saiv  under  the  sun  thefilace  of  judgment,  (that) 
wickedness  fwasj  there  ?  and  the  place  of  righteousness,  f  that  J 

17  iniquity  fivasj  there.  I  said  in  mine  heart,  God  shall  judge  the 
righteous  and  the  wicked  :fQr  (there  is)  a  time  therefor  every  pur- 

18  fiose,  and  for  every  work.  I  said  in  mine  heart  concerning  the  estate 
of  the  sons  of  men,  that  God  might  manifest  them,  and  that  they 

19  might  see  that  they  themselves  are  beasts.  For  that  which  befalleth 
the  sons  of  men  befalleth  beasts  ;  even  one  thing  befalleth  them  : 
as  the  one  dieth,  so  dieth  the  other  ;  yea,  they  have  all  one  breath  : 
so  that  a  man  hath  no  fire-emincnce  above  a  beast :  for  all  (is J 

20  vanity.  All  go  unto  onefilace :  all  are  of  the  dust,  and  all  return  to 

21  dustagain.  Whoknoweththesfiiritofmanthatgoethufiward,and  the 

22  sftirit  of  the  beast  that  goeth  downward  to  the  earth  ?  Wherefore  I 
perceive  that  (there  is  J  nothing  better,  than  that  a  man  should  re- 
joice in  his  own  works  ;  for  that  (is J  his  portion  :  for  who  shall 

bring  him  to  see  what  shall  be  after  him  ?" 

1  "  So  /  returned,  and  considered  all  the  oppressions  that  are  done 
under  the  sun:  and  behold  the  tears  of  Csuch  as  were)  oppressed, 
and  they  had  no  comforter  ;  and  on  the  one  side  of  their  oppressors 

2  (there  was)  power ;  but  they  had  no  comforter.  Wherefore  I 
praised  the  dead  who  are  already  dead,  more  than  the  living  who 

3  are  yet  alive.  Yea,  better  (is  he  J  than  both  they  which  hath  not  yet 
been,  who  hath  not  yet  seen  the  evil  work  that  is  done  under  the  S7tn.^', 


Amongst  the  sources  of  unhappiness  and  vexatioa 
of  spirit,  discovered  by  Solomon  in  his  survey  of  hu- 
man life,  he  mentions,  in  the  beginning  of  the  passage 
now  read,  the  frequent  exaltation  of  unprincipled  men 
to  places  of  power  and  authority,  their  violations  of  the 
very  laws  which  they  had  been  appointed  to  administer 
ind  to  guard  from  infringement,  and  their  administra- 
tion of  them  with  injustice,  partiality,  and  corruption. 
Verse  16.  '*  And  moreover,  I  saw  under  the  sun  the 


laS  LECTURE  VI. 

place  of  judgment,  (that)  wickedness  (was)  there,  and 
the.  place  of  righteousness,  (that)  iniquity  (was)  there.'* 

Different  views  have  been  suggested  of  the  connec- 
tion of  this  particular  with  the  leading  object  of  the 
book. 

In  the  first  place.  It  has  been  considered  as  an  in- 
tended check  to  die  vanity  of  ambition.  The  possession 
of  power  brings  invariably  along  with  it  a  temptation 
to  its  perversion  and  abuse  :  a  temptation  so  strong, 
that  rnany  who,  previously  to  their  advancement,  have 
appeared  to  "  walk  uprightly,"  "  doing  justly  and  Iov« 
ing  mercy,"  have  no  sooner  been  raised  to  the  perilous 
eminence,  than  they  have  fallen  before  it,  and,  to  the 
surprise  and  disappointment  of  all,  have  assumed  the 
character  of  unrighteous  and  ruthless  oppressors.  As 
the  seat  of  power,  then,  is  not  always  the  seat  of  true 
honour ;  and  as  it  is  surrounded  with  temptations  to 
such  conduct  as  may  cover  its  possessor  with  infamy 
and  execration  ;  let  aspiring  ambition  be  repressed  ;  let 
the  man  who  is  seeking  happiness  in  the  attainment  of 
power,  pause  and  bethink  himself,  and  not  indulge  too 
sanguine  expectations  and  assurances  of  finding  what 
he  seeks.  Let  him  not  deride  the  warning,  and,  in  self- 
confident  presumption,  pronounce  it  impossible  that  he 
should  ever  act  a  part,  which  so  many,  who  had  quite 
as  good  ground  for  vaunting,  have  acted  before  him. 
No  man  knows  what  is  in  his  heart,  till  his  heart  has 
been  tried  by  the  eliciting  powers  of  temptation.— Be- 
sides, even  the  upright  and  conscientious  ruler  may 
suffer  by  his  official  connection  with  others  ;  and  by  that 
generalizing  principle  of  association,  which  attaches  the 
character  of  the  individual  magistrate  to  the  office  which 
he  holds,  and  from  the  delinquency  of  a  few,  condemns 
or  suspects  all,  and  loads  them  with  indiscriminate  ob^ 


ECCLES.  III.   16 S3.  IV.   1 — 3.  133 

loquy.  We  know  well  how  unfairly  this  principle  fre- 
quently operates  ;  and  how  difficult  it  is  for  a  man,  even 
of  the  purest  integrity  and  the  most  consummate  pru- 
dence, to  avoid  incurring  his  share,  however  undeserved, 
of  this  official  odium,  and  to  preserve  his  reputation 
unsullied. 

Secondly.  The  abuse  of  power  by  unrighteous  and 
wicked  judges  and  governors,  is  a  source  of  very  exten- 
sive unhappiness  to  the  people  who  are  placed  under 
its  influence.  Where  there  is  "  respect  of  persons^  and 
taking  of  bribes,"  the  poor  are  oppressed,  their  sub- 
stance is  spoiled,  their  dues  are  kept  back  by  fraud, 
their  wrongs  are  unredressed,  and  the  evils  of  poverty 
are  ten-fold  accumulated.  The  unequal  administration 
of  law  and  justice  produces  between  the  poor  and  the 
lich,  and  amongst  the  rich  themselves,  envies,  and  jea- 
lousies, and  quarrels,  and  mutual  disquietudes  and  ap- 
prehensions. As  the  impartial  distribution  of  justice  is 
one  of  the  highest  blessings  that  providence  can  confer 
upon  a  country,  its  opposite  is  one  of  the  deepest  cur- 
ses, a  source  of  the  most  multifarious  and  aggravated 
misery.  No  wonder,  then,  that  in  his  survey  of  the  con- 
dition of  mankind,  and  in  forming  his  estimate  of  hu- 
man happiness,  the  Royal  observer  should  have  marked 
amongst  his  memoranda  this  fountain  of  bitter  waters, 
which,  rising  in  '^  the  high  places"  of  the  earth,  pours 
its  wormwood  streams  to  so  melancholy  an  extent  over 
the  peopled  valleys  beneath. 

Thirdly.  The  existence  and  contemplation  of  such 
scenes  of  iniquity  and  oppression,  was  itself  a  cause  of 
much  disquietude  and  vexation  to  Solomon's  own  mind ; 
disgusting  him  with  the  world ;  fretting  and  irritating 
his  spirit ;  marring  his  enjoyment,  and  frustating  his 
hopes.— Even  in  his  own  kingdom,  where  he  wished 


134^  LECTURE  VI. 

impartial  justice  to  be  administered  to  all  his  subjects, 
he  had  found  it,  we  may  presume,  impossible,  with  all 
his  care,  to  prevent  entirely  the  intrusion  of  improper 
characters  into  places  of  trust  and  power.  He  was  dis- 
appointed and  provoked  by  complaints  from  various 
parts  of  his  dominions,  respecting  the  conduct  of  those 
whom  he  had  appointed  to  be  "  a  terror  to  evil-doers, 
and  a  praise  of  them  that  do  well ,"  and  possibly  he 
sometimes  found  least  satisfaction  where  he  had,  and 
with. apparent  reason,  expected  most.  This  was  one  of 
the  many  cares  and  crosses  of  royalty,  that  rendered  its 
honours  and  pleasures  irksome  and  distasteful ;  One  of 
the  thorns  in  his  crown  by  day,  and  in  his  pillow  of 
down  by  night. — He  knew  besides  that  such  evils  were 
not  confined  to  his  own  kingdom,  but  were  exhibited 
on  a  much  more  extensive  scale,  and  in  a  much  more 
distressing  degree,  in  other  countries,  with  whose  past 
and  present  history  he  was  acquainted. 


His  ear  was  pain'd. 


His  heart  was  sick,  with  every  days  report 

of  wrong  and  outrage,  with  which  earth  was  fill'd." 

If  we  compare  this  verse  with  the  beginning  of  the 
next  chapter,  where  the  same  subject  is  resumed,  we 

shall  be  satisfied,  that  it  is  this  third  idea  that  Solomon 
had  principally  in  his  mind : — "  So  1  returned,  and 
considered  all  the  oppressions  that  were  done  under  the 
sun :  and  behold,  the  tears  of  (such  as  were)  oppressed, 
and  they  had  no  comforter ;  and  on  the  side  of  their 
oppressors  (there  was)  power,  but  they  had  no  com- 
forter. Wherefore  1  praised  the  dead  who  are  already 
dead,  more  than  the  living  who  are  yet  alive.  Yea, 
better  (is  he)  than  both  they,  who  hath  not  yet  been, 
who  hath  not  seen  the  evil  work  that  is  done  under  the 
sun." — These  verses  contain  an  amplification  of  the 


ECCLES.  III.  16 — 22.  IV.  1 — 3.  135 

same  sentiment  we  have  just  been  considering.  The 
language  is  very  strong;  yet  not  stronger  than  the 
scene  described  is  sufficient  to  justify ;  for  nothing  can 
well  be  conceived  more  fitted  to  rouse  up  all  the  latent 
indignation  of  a  generous  and  compassionate  spirit. — 
Solomon's  mind  was  so  deeply  aiFecied  by  the  miseries 
consequent  on  the  abuse  of  authority,  especially  under 
arbitrary  and  despotic  governments,  where  power  takes 
the  place  of  right,  where  the  oppressed  can  neither 
escape  nor  obtain  redress,  and  where  none  have  the  cou- 
rage to  stand  forth  as  the  protectors  and  vindicators  of 
injured  innocence,  or  even  to  act  the  part  of  its  private 
comforters  ; — that  he  *'  praised  the  dead,"  because  their 
hearts  could  no  longer  be  harassed  and  torn  by  the 
view  of  such  scenes,  and  the  bitter  feeling  of  incompe- 
tence to  mend  them ;  and,  to  their  situation,  he  even 
preferred  that  of  the  unborn  child,— of  **  him  who  had 
not  yet  been,"  who  had  never  at  all  witnessed  such 
wickedness,  and  such  misery  resulting  from  it,  nor  had 
his  sensibilities  crucified  by  the  contemplation  of  them. 
Life  appeared  hateful  to  him,— death  and  non-existence 
preferable.  He  could  not  endure  a  world  where  such 
profligacy  and  such  wretchedness  prevailed. 

The  reflection  in  the  seventeenth  verse  is,  in  this  vierr 
of  its  connection,  a  very  solemn  and  aflfecting  one  :— 
"  I  said  in  my  heart,  God  shall  judge  the  righteous  and 
the  wicked ;  for  (there  is)  a  time  there  for  every  pur- 
pose, and  for  every  work." 

Some  may  be  disposed  to  view  it  as  a  consolation  to 
the  mind  of  Solomon,  to  be  assured,  that  *^  the  righ- 
teous  God,  who  loveth  righteousness"  would  not  be  a 
spectator  of  such  scenes  of  evil,  andalwat/s  keep  silence  j 
that  he  would  call  to  a  fearful  reckoning  the  unrigh- 
teous and  unmerciful  oppressor,  and  avenge  the  victim.? 


136  LECTURE  VI. 

of  wrong  and  cruelty.  "  There  is  a  time  there,^"*  that 
is,  *'  there  is  a  time"  with  God  in  heaven,  "  for  every 
purpose,  and  for  every  work."  There  is  with  him  "  a 
time  to  keep  silence,  and  a  time  to  speak  ;"*  a  time  to 
mark  and  register  human  crimes,  and  a  time  to  "  bring 
them  into  judgment."  Of  such  wicked  men,  **  the  judg- 
ment lingereth  not,  the  damnation  slumbereth  not." 

But,  although  it  is  true,  that  by  the  final  judgments 
of  a  holy  and  just  God,  every  wrong  and  evil  shall  be 
thoroughly  accounted  for  and  rectified,— the  righteous 
acquitted,  and  the  wicked  condemned ;  and  although 
this  is,  in  one  view,  a  most  gratifying  and  consolatory 
truth  ;— yet  I  cannot  help  thinking,  that  the  reflection 
in  verse  17th,  was  made  with  a  sigh, — a  deep  and  heavy 
sigh ;  not,  indeed,  implying  any  secret  regret  that  such 
works  were  to  be  brought  into  judgment,  or  any  wish 
that  they  should  not ;  but,  in  the  midst  of  the  satisfac- 
tory assurance  that  they  should,  an  awful  and  shudder- 
ing anticipation  of  the  horrors  of  the  coming  retribu- 
tion. The  distress,  arising  from  the  contemplation  of 
human  wickedness,  is  a  thousand-fold  aggravated  to  the 
mind  of  him  who  connects  it  with  the  "judgment  to 
come."  Whilst  it  becomes  us  to  acquiesce,  and  that 
with  satisfaction,  in  the  propriety  of  such  wickedness 
being  brought  to  merited  punishment  by  the  wronged 
and  insulted  Majesty  of  Heaven,  we  cannot  but  be 
deeply  pained  when  we  think  of  such  cause  being  given 
for  the  infliction  of  his  vengeance,— when  we  see  un- 
godly men  "  treasuring  up  unto  themselves  wrath 
against  the  day  of  wrath,  and  revelation  of  the  righteous 
judgment  of  God."  The  feelings  of  piety  are  not  in- 
compatible with  the  feelings  of  humanity.  A  holy  as- 
sent  to  the  execution  of  the  awards  of  justice  in  the 

*  See  Psal.  1.  3, 


ECCLES.  III.  16 22.  IV.  1 — 3.  137 

merited  punishment  of  impenitent  transgressors,  and  a 
solemn  delight  in  the  manifestation  of  the  Divine  glory- 
in  their  destruction,  do  not  at  all  require  that  we  should 
feel  pleasure  in  the  sufferings  themselves  of  our  fellow- 
creatures,  however  justly  inflicted.  On  the  contrary,  the 
anticipation  of  them  sends  home  to  the  heart  a  pang  of 
indescribable  agony.  The  blessed  God  himself,  whom 
we  should  seek  in  every  imitable  part  of  his  character 
to  resemble,  hath  said,  "  As  I  live,  I  have  no  pleasure 
in  the  death  of  the  wicked;  but  rather  that  he  would 
turn  from  his  wicked  way  and  live."* — The  general 
meaning,  therefore,  of  this  part  of  the  passage  appears 
to  be,  that  the  enjoyment  of  life  was  marred  and  em- 
bittered to  Solomon,  by  the  sight  and  the  hearing  of 
the  oppression  and  injustice  prevalent  in  the  world;  and 
that,  whilst  the  assurance  of  a  righteous  judgment  to 
come  imparted  to  his  mind  relief  and  comfort  in  one 
view,  it  added  inconceivably  in  another  to  the  weight 
of  distress  by  which  his  heart  was  burdened. 

From  this  verse,  and  from  various  other  parts  of  the 
Book,  it  is  manifest,  that  Solomon  understood  and 
believed  for  himself,  and  also,  that  he  taught  to  others, 
the  doctrines  of  a  future  judgment,  and  a  future  state 
of  happiness  and  misery  ;  and  that  the  fancy  of  some 
is  destitute  of  foundation,  by  whom  the  Book  has  been 
interpreted,  as  if  it  proceeded  throughout  upon  igno- 
rance of  these  important  truths,  as  not  having  been  at 
that  time  clearly  revealed :— a  hypothesis,  which  it  seems 
passing  strange,  that  any  person  who  has  read  the 
Old  Testament  Scriptures  should  ever  have  seriously 
espoused ;  yet  which  has  been  made  the  basis  of  the  most 
ingenious  and  learned  speculations,  relative  to  the  na- 
ture of  the  Mosaic  Economy,  and  the  evidence  of  its 

*  Ezek.  xxxiii,  IL 


138  LECTURE  vr. 

Divine  authority.  The  subject  may  come  in  our  wav 
again.  At  present,  any  discussion  of  it  would  lead  us 
too  much  away  from  the  scope  and  design  of  the  pas- 
sage  under  review. 

Verses  18—20.  "  I  said  in  my  heart,  concerning  the 
estate  of  the  sons  of  men,  that  God  might  manifest 
them,  and  that  they  might  see  that  they  themselves  are 
beasts.  For  that  which  befalleth  the  sons  of  men  be- 
falleth  beasts  ;  even  one  thing  befalleth  them  :  as  the 
one  dieth,  so  dieth  the  other ;  yea,  they  have  all  one 
breath ;  so  that  a  man  hath  no  pre-eminence  above  a 
beast :  for  all  (is)  vanity.  All  go  to  one  place  :  all  are 
of  the  dust,  and  all  turn  to  dust  again." 

I  am  disposed  to  consider  these  verses  as  still  the 
language  of  Solomon  himself :  for  the  opinion  of  some, 
that  they  should  be  interpreted  as  if  spoken  by  a  ma- 
terialist, or  atheistical  objector,  is  incapable,  I  think,  of 
being  maintained  in  any  consistency  with  the  plain  con- 
struction of  the  passage. — Considering  them  as  the  lan- 
guage of  Solomon,  there  appears  to  be  one  thing  only 
necessary  to  be  admitted,  in  order  to  render  their  mean- 
ing intelligible  and  clear ;  namely,  that  by  **  the  sons 
of  men"  we  are  to  understand  the  general  mass  of  man- 
kind, who  live  for  this  world,  and  have  their  portion 
in  it.  And  this  is  not  surely  an  unreasonable  postulate. 
On  the  principle  that  the  vast  majority  of  mankind  live 
for  themselves  and  for  time,  and  that  those  who  live  for 
God  and  eternity  are  the  exceptions  to  the  general 
character,  the  same  designation  is,  in  other  places,  used 
in  this  restricted  sense.  "  O  ye  sons  ofmen^  how  long 
(will  ye  turn)  my  glory  into  shame  ?  (how  long)  will 
ye  love  vanity,  and  follow  after  leasing  ?"  "  Unto  you, 
O  men,  1  call,  and  my  voice  (is)  to  the  sons  of  men  ;  O 
ye  simple,  understand  wisdom :  and  ye  fools,  be  ye  of 


ECCLES.  III.  16 23.     IV.  1 — 3.  139 

an  understanding  heart." — And  even  in  this  book  : 
"  Because  sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed 
speedily,  the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them 
to  do  evil."  "  Also  the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  full 
of  evil,  and  madness  (is)  in  their  heart  while  they  live  ; 
and  after  that  (they  go)  to  the  dead."* — Besides,  it 
will  appear  still  more  clearly  by  and  by,  that  in  this  pas- 
sage itself,  Solomon  affirms  the  certainty  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul  and  a  future  judgment,  and  that,  when 
he  reasons  of  the  vanity  of  Ife,  he  has  in  his  view  this 
life  considered  by  itself  as  alas !  it  so  generally  is  by 
thoughtless  and  ungodly  men. 

The  eighteenth  verse,  then,  may  be  considered  as  ex- 
pressing the  wish  or  desire  of  Solomon's  heart,  after  he 
had  learned,  by  much  bitter  experience,  the  proper  es- 
timate of  all  the  sources  of  worldly  enjoyment,  that  God 
would  reveal  to  the  sons  of  men  what  was  their  real 
state  and  character,  as  long  as  they  were  devoting  them- 
selves, in  affection  and  pursuit,  to  these  alone, — as  long 
as  they  continued  "  men  of  the  world  who  have  their 
portion  in  this  life." — "I  said  in  my  heart,  concerning 
the  estate  of  the  sons  of  men,  O  that  God  might  mani- 
fest them,"  (that  is,  to  themselves,  according  to  what 
follows,)  "  and  that  they  might  see  that  they  themselves 
are  beasts:" — that  whilst  they  grovel  amongst  worldly 
pleasures  alone,  whilst  "  earth  confines  their  low  de- 
sires," they  degrade  their  immortal  nature,  they  sink 
themselves  to  a  level  with  the  beasts  that  perish.  For, 
in  as  far  as  mere  animal  life,  and  animal  gratifications, 
and  the  termination  of  earthly  existence,  are  concerned, 
where  lies  the  mighty  difference  ?— "  That  v/hich  be- 
falleth  the  sons  of  men,  befalleth  beasts ;  even  one  thing 
befalleth  them:   as  the  one  dieth,  so  dieth  the  other ? 

♦  Psal.  iv,  2.    ProY.  viii.  4,  5.    Kccles,  viii.  11.  is.  5, 


140  LECTURE   VI. 

yea,  they  have  all  one  breath ;  so  that  a  man  hath  no 
pre-eminence  above  a  beast;  for  all  (is)  vanity.  AH  go 
unto  one  place  :  all  are  of  the  dust,  and  all  turn  to  dust 
again." — Many  of  the  inferior  animals  have  senses  capa- 
ble of  imparting  much  more  exquisite  sensations  of 
pleasure  than  men  : — men  are  subject  to  a  much  greater 
variety  of  diseases,  and  accidents,  and  modes  of  suffer- 
ing, than  the  generality  of  brutes:— men  and  beasts 
breathe  together  the  same  air,  and  are  sustained  by  the 
same  general  process  of  nourishment : — and  when  they 
die,  they  discover  the  same  latent  principle  of  corrup- 
tion; both  alike  putrifying  and  mouldering  into  dust; 
the  same  in  origin,  and  the  same  in  end. — In  such  views 
as  these,  "a  man  hath  no  pre-eminence  above  a  beast," 
and  the  life  of  man,  considered  simply  in  relation  to  this 

world,  is  most  emphatically  vanity, — all  vanity *'  Lord, 

make  me  to  know  mine  end,  and  the  measure  of  my 
days,  that  I  may  know  how  frail  I  (am.)  Behold,  thou 
hast  made  my  days  (as)  a  hand  breadth,  and  mine  age 
(is)  as  nothing  before  thee  :  verily  every  man,  at  his  best 
estate,  (is)  altogether  vanity.  Surely  every  man  walketh 
in  a  vain  show  ;  surely  they  are  disquieted  in  vain  :  he 
heapeth  up  (riches)  and  knoweth  not  who  shall  gather 
them."*^ — "  For  he  seeth  (that)  wise  men  die  ;  likewise 
the  fool  and  the  brutish  person  perish,  and  leave  their 
wealth  to  others.  Their  inward  thought  (is,  that)  their 
houses  (shall  continue)  for  ever,  (and)  their  dwelling 
places  to  all  generations :  they  call  (their)  lands  after 
their  own  names.  Nevertheless,  man,  (being)  in  honour 
^bideth  not ;  he  is  like  the  beasts  (that)  perish.  This  their 
way  (is)  their  folly  ;  yet  their  posterity  approve  their 
sayings.  Like  sheep  they  arc  laid  in  the  grave ;  death 
shall  feed  on  them ;  and  the  upright  shall  have  domi- 

*  VsiX.  xxxix.  4 — 6= 


ECCLES.  Ill,  IB 32.    IV.  1 — 3.  141 

nioii  over  them  in  the  morning ;  and  their  beauty  shall 
consume  in  the  grave  from  their  dwelling. — Man  (that 
is)  in  honour,  and  understandeth  not,  is  like  the  beasts 
(that)  perish."* — In  these  passages,  from  the  Psalms, 
the  same  general  sentiment  is  expressed  as  in  the  verses 
before  us ;  and  in  the  latter  of  the  two,  expressed  in 
very  similar  terms. 

Between  the  latter  end,  however,  of  the  man  and  the 
brute,  there  is  one  essential  and  most  important  differ- 
ence ;  and  it  is  this  difference  which  manifests,  above 
every  other  consideration,  the  extreme  and  pitiable  folly 
of  "  the  sons  of  men,"  when,  like  the  beasts,  they  live 
as  if  the  present  were  their  only  existence.  This  dif- 
ference is  expressed  in  the  twenty-first  verse  : — "  Who 
knoweth  the  spirit  of  man  that  goeth  upward,  and  the 
spirit  of  the  beast  that  goeth  downward  to  the  earth?" 

For  the  illustration  of  this  verse,  let  it  be  remarked, 
that  the  expression  "  Who  knoweth?"  docs  not  convey 
the  idea  of  ignorance  or  uncertainty  with  regard  to  the 
future  destination  of  the  spirit  of  man  in  distinction 
from  that  of  the  brute  : — for  in  this  same  verse  a  differ- 
ence  is  expressly  asserted  to  subsist  between  them.  Of 
the  one  it  is  affirmed  that  it  "  goeth  upward,"  and  of 
the  other,  that  it  "goeth  downward  to  the  earth." — - 
The  death  of  man  and  beast  having  been  mentioned  in 
the  preceding  verse, — ^*  all  are  of  the  dust,  and  all  turn 
to  dust  again," — makes  it  sufficiently  clear,  that  it  is 
of  this  period  that  Solomon  continues  to  speak ;  that 
the  phraseology  he  employs  is  not  intended  merely  tc 
express  the  aspiring  nature  of  the  spirit  of  man  on  the 
one  hand,  and  the  grovelling  nature  of  the  spirit  of 
brutes  on  the  other ;  but  the  destiny  of  each  at  the  close 
of  their  present  life ;   the  spirit  of  man  surviving  his 

♦  Ps;il,  xlix.  10—14,  20, 


142  LECTURE  >I. 

mortal  frame,  whilst  that  of  the  brutes,  instead  of  out- 
living  their  bodies,  is  destined  to  perish  with  thenio 
The  separate  existence  of  the  human  spirit  is  still  more 
directly  affirmed  in  a  subsequent  part  of  this  book : — = 
*'  Then  shall  the  dust  return  to  the  earth  as  it  was;  and 
the  spirit  shall  return  unto  God  who  gave  it."* — It 
would  be  out  of  place  to  enter  here  into  abstruse  meta- 
physical speculations.  My  own  opinion  is,  (and  it 
seems,  amongst  other  grounds,  to  have  some  support 
from  the  passage  before  us,  in  which  the  same  term  is 
used  for  the  spirit  of  the  beast  and  for  the  spirit  of  man  J 
—that  the  iai material  thinking  substance  in  man  and 
brute,  is,  in  its  essential  properties,  the  same  ;  that  all 
created  existence,  spiritual  and  corporeal,  being  alike 
dependent  for  its  continuance  on  the  power  which  im- 
parted it,  it  arises  entirely  from  the  will  of  the  Creator, 
and  not  from  any  difference  between  spirit  and  matter, 
as  if  the  former  were  in  its  own  nature  indestructible, 
that  the  soul,  or  thinking  principle,  of  man  is  destined 
to  immortality,  whilst  that  of  the  brute  terminates  its 
distinct  and  conscious  existence,  when  the  spark  of 
animal  life  has  been  extinguished.  To  draw  with  pre- 
cision the  boundaries  between  the  operation  of  instinct 
and  the  exercise  of  reason,  has  many  a  time  been  at- 
tempted, but  never  with  any  success ;  and  often,  on  this 
subject,  (a  subject  in  many  respects  highly  curious  and 
interesting,)  have  men  deluded  themselves  by  words 
and  names ;  ascribing  to  instinct  in  brutes,  actions 
which  evidently  possess  all  the  distinctive  attributes  of 
rationality,  and  which,  without  hesitation,  they  impute 
to  reason  in  men.  Now,  as  all  created  existence,  of 
every  possible  description,  must  be  dependent,— en- 
tirely and  unceasingly  dependent,— on  the  life-giving 

♦  Chap.  xii.  7. 


ECCLES.  in.  16 — 22.  IV.  1 — 3.  143 

God  ;  I  can  perceive  no  heresy  in  the  belief,  that  the 
same  kind  of  spiritual  essence  should  in  brutes  be  de- 
stined to  the  cessation,  and  in  man  to  the  continuance 
of  existence ;  any  more  than  in  the  belief,  (which  vvc 
know  to  have  the  direct  countenance  of  revelation,  and 
which  is  immediately  connected  with  the  other,)  that 
the  corporeal  part  of  the  man  and  of  the  brute,  though 
alike  doomed  to  the  dust,  is  in  the  former  destined  to 
restoration,  and  in  the  latter  to  permanent  corruption. 
If  in  the  expression  "  the  spirit  of  man  that  goeth 
upward,"  the  separate  existence  of  the  human  soul  after 
death  be,  as  I  conceive  it  is,  directly  affirmed,  then  the 
question,—"  PF/io  knoweth  the  spirit  of  man  that  goeth 
upward,  and  the  spirit  of  the  beast  that  goeth  down- 
ward to  the  earth  ?"  must  not,  as  I  have  already  noticed, 
be  understood  to  imply  ignorance  or  uncertainty  on  this 
all-important  point: — and  to  suppose  no  more  to  be 
meant,  than  that  the  difference  between  the  one  and  the 
other  in  death  is  not  discernible,  would  be  egregious 
trifling;  the  soul  of  man  being  of  course,  from  its  im- 
material nature,  incapable  of  being  so  discerned.  What- 
ever may  be  the  case  with  other  orders  of  being,  and 
especially  with  spiritual  essences  that  exist  in  separa- 
tion from  material  bodies; — whatever  may  be  amongst 
them  the  means  of  perception  and  intercourse  ;  we  our- 
selves belong  to  a  species  possessing  no  senses  for  the 
discernment  of  spirits.  That  we  cannot  see  the  human 
spirit  quitting  the  body  and  going  upward  to  God,  is 
a  proposition  too  trifling  for  the  solemnity  of  the  ques- 
tion ;  and  nothing  would  be  more  unphilosophical  than 
to  found  upon  this  consideration  any  sceptical  doubt  a? 
to  its  distinct  existence,  or  tiie  existence  of  spirit  in 
general.  It  has  been  justly  remarked,  that  a  creature 
endowed  with  four  only  of  the  senses  which  we  pos- 


144<  LECTURE  vr. 

scss,  might,  with  equal  reason,  question  the  existence 
of  all  that  we  discover  by  the  fifth. 

The  question,  then,  appears  to  be  expressive  of  a 
very  lamentable  fact ;— namely,  that  few,  very  few,  pro- 
perly think  of  and  consider  this  essential  and  important 
difference  between  the  human  and  the  brute  creation  ; 
that  the  great  majority  of  mankind  live  and  act  as  if 
they  knew  nothing  of  it,  or  attached  to  it  no  degree  of 
credit. — A  similar  style  of  question  is,  in  other  places, 
used,  to  express  the  same  idea  of  rarity,  associated  with 
the  sentiments  of  wonder  and  regret : — "  Who  can  find 
a  virtuous  woman?  for  her  price  is  far  above  rubies  :"* 
'*  Who  hath  believed  our  report  ?  and  to  whom  has  the 
arm  of  the  Lord  been  revealed  ?"f — and  the  word 
which  is  translated  "knoweth"  is  one  which  not  unfre- 
quently  signifies,  to  take  notice  of,  or  to  regard. — Solo- 
mon affirms,  then,  the  difference  between  man  and 
brute ;  affirms  that  the  spirit  of  the  former  at  death 
"  ascendeth  on  high,"  and  that  the  spirit  of  the  latter, 
like  the  body,  "  goes  down  to  the  earth,"  and  perishes 
with  it ; — and  he  laments  the  fact,  that  by  the  great 
majority  of  the  children  of  men  the  difference  is  not  at- 
tended to,  and  is  entirely  without  influence.  And  this 
deep  and  melancholy  regret  accords  with  the  desire 
which  he  had  just  before  expressed,  that  God  would 
show  the  sons  of  men  how  foolish  they  were,  and  how 
they  degraded  their  immortal  nature,  by  living  as  if  the 
present  life  were  their  only  existence,  and  thus  equal- 
izing themselves  with  the  beasts  of  the  field.  It  was 
indeed  matter  of  just  lamentation,  that  such  creatures 
should  not  lay  to  heart  their  lofty  destination,  and  rise 
superior  to  the  perishing  vanities  and  grovelling  pur.^ 
suits,  of  a  mere  earthly  and  sensual  existence. 

•  Prov,  xsxi.  10.  t  Isa.  liil.  \. 


ECCLES.  ni.  16 23.   IV.  1 — 3.  145 

The  22nd  verse,  "  Wherefore  I  perceive,  that  (there 
is)  nothing  better,  than  that  a  man  should  rejoice  in  his 
own  works;  for  that  (is)  his  portion:  for  who  shall 
bring  him  to  see  what  shall  be  after  him?"— may  be 
understood  in  two  ways. 

First.  It  may  be  considered  as  a  repetition  of  thC; 
same  sentiment  which  he  had  more  than  once  expressed 
before,  respecting  the  grateful  reception  and  cheerful 
enjoyment  of  the  bounties  of  providence.*  In  this  case, 
the  verse  must  be  connected  with  the  vanity  of  human 
life,  considered  by  itself,  independently  of  the  life  to 
come,  as  having,  in  so  many  respects,  no  pre-eminence 
above  that  of  the  beasts.  In  these  circumstances,  the 
best  thing  for  a  man  to  do  with  the  possessions  of  this 
world  is,  cheerfully  to  enjoy  them,  while  his  vain  and 
fleeting  life  endures,  as  the  portion  given  him  by  the 
kindness  of  heaven ;  remembering,  that  when  he  re- 
turns to  the  dust,  his  connection  with  earthly  things 
shall  for  ever  terminate,  and  that  "  what  shall  be  after 
him"  will  be  to  him  no  matter  of  concern,  when  he  has 
finally  retired  from  the  scene. — "  Thou  prevailest  for 
ever  against  him,  and  he  passeth ;  thou  changest  his 
countenance  and  sendest  him  away.  His  sons  come  to 
honour,  and  he  knoweth  (it)  not ;  and  they  are  brought 
low,  but  he  perceiveth  (it)  not  of  them."! 

But,  secondly,  the  words  are  capable  of  a  more  ele- 
vated sense. — Solomon  had  been  speaking  of  the  vexa- 
tion arising  to  the  mind  from  the  wickedness  of  others, 
and  had  been  looking  forward  to  a  coming  judgment, 
when  just  and  unjust  shall  give  their  account  to  God ; 
and  to  death,  as  the  time  when  the  "  spirit  of  man  goeth 
upward"  "  to  God  who  gave  it."  May  we  not  then 
consider  him  as  expressing  what  ought  to  be  the  s?- 

*  Chan.  u.  24.  ir.  12,  13,  t  J'^b'  ^•'''  -^'  *' 

T 


146  LECTUIIE   VI. 

rious  and  constant  aim  of  mankind,— what  every  man 
should  set  his  heart  upon,  as  his  highest  attainment  ;— 
namely,  that,  in  life  and  in  death,  he  may  have  reason 
to  "rejoice  in  his  own  works,"  however  much  he  may 
be  grieved  and  distressed  by  those  of  others ;  that  he 
may  have  this  as  a  portion  of  happiness,  which  none 
shall  be  able  to  alienate  from  him, — of  inward  enjoy- 
ment of  which  he  shall  never  be  robbed.  Let  him  see 
to  it,  that,  with  solemn  anticipation  of  what  is  before 
him,  with  the  most  conscientious  integrity  of  desire  to 
know  and  to  do  God's  will,  and  with  the  most  wakeful 
and  solicitous  circumspection  in  all  his  ways,  he  retain 
the  possession  of  this  portion  : — and  as  to  the  concern 
which  he  feels  about  the  wickedness  and  oppression  of 
others,  the  guilt  of  the  oppressor  and  the  misery  of  the 
oppressed, — '*  who  shall  bring  him  to  see  what  shall  be 
after  him  ?"  The  scene  shall  soon  be  removed  from  be- 
fore his  eyes  ;  or  rather,  he  shall  be  removed  from  it ; 
— and  when  he  takes  his  departure  out  of  the  world,  he 
shall  witness  it  no  more.— In  this  view  of  the  words, 
they  will  beautifully  correspond  with  the  sentiments 
and  admonitions  of  the  New  Testament  writers  :— 
"  Our  rejoicing  is  this,  the  testimony  of  our  conscience, 
that  in  simplicity  and  godly  sincerity,  not  with  fleshly 
wisdom,  but  by  the  grace  of  God,  we  have  had  our 
conversation  in  the  world:" — "Let  every  man  prove 
his  own  work  ;  and  then  shall  he  have  rejoicing  in  him- 
self alone,  and  not  in  another.  For  every  man  shall  bear 
his  own  burden."*  And  the  duty  implied,  and  which 
is  thus  connected  with  a  man's  true  interest,  will  be 
that  which  the  apostle  of  the  Gentiles  so  finely  expres- 
ses, in  his  vindication  of  himself  before  Felix  :  "  Herein 
do  I  exercise  myself,  to  have  always  a  conscience  void 

*  ?  C'M-.  i.  12.   Cul.vi.  4,5. 


ECCLES.  III.  16 22.  IV.   1 — 3.  4  4^ 

of  offence  toward  God,  and  (toward)  men."* — Let  a 
man  thus  '•  study  to  approve  himself  unto  God,"  a?? 
one  of  his  true  and  faithful  servants  :— let  him  not 
"  practise  wicked  deeds  with  them  that  do  iniquity," 
or  "  have  any  fellowship  with  the  unfruitful  works  of 
darkness:" — let  him  walk  with  God,  in  faith  and  holy 
obedience  :— let  him  be  found  amongst  the  righteous, 
— the  fearers  of  the  Lord  : — and  let  him  rest  assured 
that  He  will  in  the  end  make  a  marked  and  permanent 
distinction  between  his  subjects  and  his  enemies.  *'  A 
Book  of  remembrance  is  written  before  him,  for  them 
who  fear  him  and  think  upon  his  name  :  and  they  shall 
be  mine,  saith  the  Lord,  in  that  day  when  I  make  up 
my  jewels  ;  and  1  will  spare  them,  as  a  man  sparcth 
his  own  son  that  serveth  him.  Then  shall  ye  return, 
and  discern  between  the  righteous  and  the  wicked ; 
between  him  that  serveth  God,  and  him  that  serveth 
him  not."f  "  The  ungodly  shall  not  stand  in  the  judg- 
ment, nor  sinners  in  the  congregation  of  the  righteous  : 
for  the  Lord  knoweth  the  way  of  the  righteous;  but 
the  way  of  the  ungodly  shall  perish. "J 

In  addition  to  this  solemn  practical  consideration,  let 
us  observe,  in  the  first  place,  the  ground  which  this 
passage  suggests  to  us  for  rejoicing  that  "  the  Lord 
reigneth." — We  cannot,  unless  we  be  dead  to  all  the 
\  irtuous  sensibilites  of  the  heart,  survey  the  oppression 
and  profligacy  of  men  without  deep  and  painful  emo- 
tion. Injustice  and  tyranny  arc  sometimes,  in  the  righ- 
teous severity  of  God,  permitted  to  afflict  men  on  a 
very  extensive  scale  ;  many  nations  being  troubled  by 
the  arbitrary  and  ruthless  despotism  of  one  man ;  the 
example  spreading  downwards  from  the  sovereign, 
through  all  the  gradations,  to  the  meanest  of  petty  place- 

"  Acts  xxlr.  16.  +  MaL  iii.  16—18.  *  Psal.  i.  5,  6. 


148  LECTURli    VI. 

men  ;  and,  instead  of  the  ^*  officers  being  peace  and  the 
exactors  righteousness,"  the  officers  ruling  with  the 
haughty  rigour  of  "  a  little  brief  authority,"  and  the 
exactors  extorting  unrighteous  requisitions,  and  '*  grind- 
ing the  faces  of  the  poor:"  the  hands  of  the  adminis- 
trators of  justice  being  polluted  with  bribes ;  and 
*^  when  we  look  for  judgment,  behold  oppression,  and 
for  righteousness,  behold  a  cry,"— But,  in  tiie  midst  of 
all  these  perplexing  irregularities,  let  us  not  fancy  that 
the  Sovereign  of  the  universe  has  forsaken  our  worldi 
and  regards  not  the  doings  and  the  suffif rings  of  the 
sons  of  men.  *'  Verily  there  is  a  God  that  judgeth  ia 
the  earth."  All  the  passions  of  the  human  heart,  in  all 
their  corruption  and  violence,  in  ail  the  wildness  of 
their  most  tumultuary  movements,  are  entirely  under 
liis  control.  He  makes  "  the  v/rath  of  man  to  praise 
him,  and  tiie  remainder  of  wrath  he  restrains."  The 
unprincipled  and  blood-thirsty  tyrant  is  made  "  the  rod 
of  his  indignation,"  the  instrument  in  his  hand  of  cor- 
recting the  nations  ;  and,  when  the  ends  of  his  moral 
administration  have  been  answered,  the  oppressor  him- 
self becomes,  in  his  turn,  the  subject  of  his  retributive 
inflictions.  '^'  When  the  Lord  hath  performed  his  whole 
work  upon  mount  Zion,  and  on  Jerusalem,  he  pun- 
ishes the  fruit  of  the  stout  heart  of  the  king  of  Assyria, 
and  the  glory  of  his  high  looks."*  When  "  the  wine- 
cup  of  God's  fury"  has  been  handed  round  among  all 
the  nations,  '^  the  king  of  Sheshach"  must  "  drink 
after  them."!  And  if  the  lawless  oppressor  should  go 
on  in  triumph,  even  to  the  close  of  his  mad  career,  still 
^^  he  shall  not  go  unpunished  :" — still  there  is  a  judg- 
ment to  come  :— still  "  in  the  hand  of  the  L,ord  there  is 
ii  cup,  and  the  wine  is  red ;  it  is  full  of  mixture  ;    and 

*  I»a^x.  12,  I  Jer.xxY.  35—26.       - 


ECCLES.  III.  16 22.    IV.   1 — 3.  149 

the  dregs  thereof,  all  the  wicked  of  the  earth  shall  wring 
them  out  and  drink  them." — It  is  our  great  comfort  to 
be  assured,  that  "  men  are  in  his  hand."  If  any  of  his 
own  people  are  left  to  "  suffer  for  righteousness'  sake," 
^'  let  them  not  be  afraid,  but  lot  them  glorify  God  on 
this  behalf."  O  how  often,  in  the  history  of  the  church, 
have  the  disciples  of  Jesus  been  "^  oppressed,  and  drawn 
before  the  judgment-seats  ;"  and  when  they  have  ^'  be- 
held the  place  of  judgment,  wickedness  has  been  there  ; 
and  the  place  of  righteousness,  iniquity  has  been  there." 
Should  any  of  you  ever  be  called,  for  the  name's  sake 
of  Jesus,  to  "  suffer  wrongfully"  either  by  public  or 
private  malice,  your  Master  has  set  before  you  both 
your  consolation  and  your  duty.  "  Blessed  are  ye,  when 
(men)  shall  revile  you,  and  persecute  (you,)  and  shall 
say  all  manner  of  evil  against  you  falsely,  for  my  sake. 
Rejoice,  and  be  exceeding  glad  ;  for  great  (is)  your 
reward  in  heaven  :" — "  But  I  say  unto  you.  Love  your 
enemies,  bless  them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them 
that  hate  you,  and  pray  for  them  that  dcspitefully  use 
you,  and  persecute  you  :  that  ye  may  be  the  children 
of  your  Father  who  is  in  lieaven  :  for  he  maketh  his 
sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good,  and  sendeth 
rain  on  the  just  and  on  the  unjust,"*— And  let  all  be 
assured,  who  by  the  unrighteous  decisions,  and  acts, 
and  combinations,  of  arbitrary  power  and  proud  ma- 
lignity, oppose  the  cause  and  kingdom  of  ^^  the  just 
One,"  that  their  doom  is  written.    "  Tlie  kings  of  the 
earth  set  themselves,  and  the  rulers  take  counsel  to- 
gether, against  the  Lord,  and  against  his  Anointed, 
(saying,)  Let  us  break  their  bands  asunder,  and  cast 
away  their  cords  from  us.    He  that  sitteth  in  the  hea- 
vens shall  laugh  :  the  Lord  shall  have  them  in  derision. 

.♦  M&tt.  V.  II,  12,44,45 


150  LECTURE  VI. 

Then  shall  he  speak  unto  them  in  his  wrath,  and  vex 
them  in  his  hot  displeasure."  "  Be  wise  now,  there- 
fore, O  ye  kings ;  be  instructed,  ye  judges  of  the  earth : 
bcrve  the  Lord  with  fear,  and  rejoice  with  trembling. 
Embrace  the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry,  and  ye  perish  (from) 
the  way,  when  his  wrath  is  kindled  but  a  little.  Blessed 
(are)  all  they  that  put  their  trust  in  him."* 

In  the  second  place.  Let  this  passage  repress  all  emo 
tions  of  envy  towards  the  prosperous  in  oppression 
and  wickedness.  From  part  of  a  former  chapter,  wc 
had  occasion  to  notice  how  little  ground  the  poor  have 
to  envy  the  large  possessions  and  multiplied  pleasures  of 
worldly  men,— because  cf  the  instability  of  the  enjoy- 
ment derived  from  them,  its  mingled  nature,  and  its 
constant  tendency  to  p;ill  upon  the  appetite  and  to  pro- 
duce satiety  and  disgust.  At  present,  our  remark  is 
rather  founded  on  the  character  of  the  men  brougin 
before  us  in  the  verses  we  have  been  considering. 
When  we  anticipate  the  "  great  and  dreadful  day  of 
the  Lord,"  the  day  of  final  reckoning  and  eternal  de- 
cision, when  "  God  shall  judge  the  righteous  and  the 
wicked,"  little  cause  truly  have  we  for  envying  or  for 
wishing  to  follow  such  men.  Abhorrence  of  their  ways, 
heartfelt  pity  for  their  persons,  and  an  earnest  desire  to 
"■  save  their  souls  from  death,  and  to  cover  the  multi- 
tude of  their  sins,"  are  the  feelings  with  wiiich  the  sight 
and  the  thought  of  them  should  penetrate  our  bosoms. 
-'  Envy  thou  rot  the  oppressor,  and  choose  none  of  his 
ways  :  for  tlie  froward  is  abomination  to  the  Lord  ;  but 
his  secret  is  with  the  righteous,"  "  Fret  not  thyself 
because  of  evil-doers,  neither  be  thou  envious  against 
the  workers  of  iniquity  :  for  they  shall  soon  be  cut 
down  like  the  grass,  and  wither  like  the  green  hcrbl 

*  Psal.ii.  2—5/10—11:. 


ECCLES.  III.  16 2S.  IV.  1 — 3.  15  i 

Trust  in  the  Lord,  and  do  good;  (so)  shalt  thou  dwell 
in  the  land,  and  verily  thou  shalt  be  fed.  Delight  thy- 
self also  in  the  Lord  ;  and  he  shall  give  thee  the  de- 
sires of  thine  heart.  Commit  thy  way  unto  the  Lord  ; 
trust  also  in  him,  and  he  shall  bring  (it)  to  pass;  and 
he  shall  bring  forth  thy  righteousness  as  the  light,  and 
thy  judgment  as  the  noon-day.  Rest  in  the  Lord,  and 
wait  patiently  for  him  :  fret  not  thyself  because  of  him 
who  prospereth  in  his  way,  because  of  the  man  who 
bringeth  wicked  devices  to  pass.  Cease  from  anger, 
and  forsake  wrath :  fret  not  thyself  in  any  wise  to  do 
evil.  For  evil-doers  shall  be  cut  off:  but  those  that 
wait  upon  the  Lord,  they  shall  inherit  the  earth.  For 
yet  a  little  while,  and  the  wicked  (shall)  not  (be:)  yea. 
thou  shalt  diligently  consider  his  place,  and  it  (shall) 
not  (be.)  But  the  meek  shall  inherit  the  earth;  and 
shall  delight  themselves  in  the  abundance  of  peace. "^■ 
The  Psalmist  Asaph  admitted  envy  of  the  wicked  into 
his  heart,  and  was  tempted  by  the  sight  of  their  pros- 
perity to  ''  deny  the  God  that  is  above."  He  was 
brought  to  the  very  verge  of  atheism.  After  his  re- 
covery, he  describes  their  character,  the  inward  work- 
ings of  the  temptation,  and  the  manner  in  which  the 
spell  was  broken  and  his  soul  set  at  liberty,  and  enabled 
to  resume  its  confidence  and  joy  in  the  Lord.  *'  When 
I  thought  to  know  this,  it  (was)  too  painful  for  me, 
until  i  went  into  the  sanctuary  of  God  :  (then)  under- 
stood I  their  end.  Surely  thou  didst  set  them  in  slippery 
places:  thou  castedst  them  down  into  destruction.  How 
are  they  (brought)  into  desolation,  as  in  a  moment ! 
they  are  utterly  consumed  with  terrors.  As  a  dream 
when  (one)  awaketh;  (so,)  O  Lord,  when  thou  awakest, 
thou   shalt  despise  their  image.     Thus  my  heart  was 

•  Fsal.  xxxvli .1—11. 


15a  LtCTURE  vr. 

grieved,  and  I  was  pricked  in  my  reins.  So  foolibli 
(was)  I,  and  ignorant :  I  was  (as)  a  beast  before  thee. 
Nevertheless  I  (am)  continually  with  thee;  thou  hast 
holden  (me)  by  my  right  hand.  Thou  shalt  guide  me 
with  thy  counsel,  and  afterward  receive  me  (to)  glory. 
Whom  have  I  in  heaven  (but  thee  ?)  and  (there  is)  none 
upon  earth  (that)  I  desire  besides  thee.  My  flesh  and 
my  heart  faileth :  (but)  God  (is)  the  strength  of  my 
heart,  and  my  portion  for  ever."^ 

Lastly.  Let  "  the  man  of  the  earth"  consider  the 
folly  with  which  he  is  chargeable,  in  forgetting  his  im- 
mortality, and  living  as  if  he  had  no  connection  with 
any  world  but  this,  and  no  prospect  of  any  existence 
beyond  his  residence  in  it.  O  remember,  that  "  your 
days  on  earth  are  as  a  shadow,  and  that  there  is  no 
abiding ;"  that  when  you  die,  you  are  not  to  sink  into 
annihilation  ;  your  spirit  is  not,  like  that  of  the  brutes, 
to  "  go  downward  to  the  earth,"  but  must  "go  upward," 
— upward  to  God, — "  to  God,  who  gave  it."  Live  no 
longer,  then,  like  the  beasts  that  perish.  Rise  to  a  sense 
of  your  dignity  as  immortal  beings.  Take  into  your 
estimate  of  happiness  the  whole  extent  of  your  exist- 
ence. The  chief  good  of  a  rational  and  immortal  crea- 
ture must  be  something  worthy  of  his  rational  nature, 
and  in  duration  commensurate  with  eternity.  Let  your 
inquiry  be,  how  an  eternity  of  existence  may  be  to  you 
an  eternity  of  enjoyment  ?  To  answer  this  inquiry  is 
the  grand  design  of  revelation.  "  The  way  of  salvation" 
is  there  set  before  you  ;— the  way  to  eternal  life ; — the 
path  to  ^^  glory,  and  honour,  and  immortality."  Jesus 
is  revealed  as  the  Son  of  God,  the  Divine  Redeemer, 
the  Hope  of  sinners.  Believe  in  Him;  live  to  Him. 
Thus  shall  you  possess  true  honour,  and  true  felicity. 

*  Pial.  Ixxlii.  16—26. 


ECCLES.  III.  16 22,    IV.  1 — 3.  153 

When  your  mortal  frame  shall  descend  to  the  dustj 
your  spirit,  commended  into  the  hands  of  God  your 
Saviour,  shall  rise  to  the  perfection  of  purity  and  bliss. 
•'  Absent  from  the  body,  you  shall  be  present  with  the 
Lord ;"  and  *'  your  flesh  also,"  though  doomed  to  tem- 
porary corruption,  ^'  shall  rest  in  hope.^'  Man  and  beast 
go  to  one  place ;  returning  to  the  common  womb  of 
Earth.  But  the  former  are  not  lost.  The  common  Pa- 
rent shall  travail  again.  "  The  Earth  shall  cast  forth 
her  dead."  They  that  "  dwell  in  the  dust,"  who  have 
lived  and  died  to  the  Lord,  **  shall  awake  and  sing:" 
— "  Lo  this  (is)  our  God ;  we  have  waited  for  him,  and 
he  will  save  us  :  this  (is)  the  Lord ;  we  have  waited  for 
him ;  we  will  be  glad  and  rejoice  in  his  salvation." 
"  This  corruptible  shall  then  put  on  incorruption,  and 
this  mortal  immortality ;  and  the  saying  that  is  written 
shall  be  brought  to  pass.  Death  is  swallowed  up  in  vic- 
tory !" — Again,  then,  I  say,  live  no  longer  like  the 
beasts  that  perish.  Anticipate  what  is  before  you,  and 
thankfully  avail  yourselves  of  the  mercy  of  the  gospel. 
"  Behold,  now  (is)  the  accepted  time ;  behold,  now  (is) 
the  day  of  salvation."  "  This  is  life  eternal,  to  know 
the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  he  hath 
sent." 


LECTURE  ril 


EccLEs.  iv.  4 — 16. 

4  "  Jgain,  I  considered  all'lravail,  and  every  right  work,  that  for  this 
a  man  is  envied  of  his  neighbour.  This  (is  J  also  vanitij  andvexa- 

5  tion  of  spirit.  The  fool foldeth  his  hands  together,  and  eateth  his  own 

6  flesh.    Better  fisj  an  handful  (with J  quietness,  than  both  the 

7  hands  full  f-withj  travail  and  vexation  of  sfiirit.  Then  I  returned, 

8  and  I  saw  vanity  under  the  sun.  There  is  one  (alone,  J  and  (there 
is  J  not  a  second  ;  yea,  he  hath  neither  child  nor  brother :  yet  (is 
there)  no  end  of  all  his  labour  ;  neither  is  his  eye  satisfied  with  riches; 
neither  (saith  he,)  For  whom  do  I  labour,  and  bereave  my  soul  of 

9  good?  This  fis)  also  vanity,  yea,  it  (is J  a  sore  travail.  Two  (are) 
better  than  one  ;  because  they  have  a  good  reward  for  their  labour. 

10  For  if  they  fall,  the  07ie  will  lift  ufi  his  ftllow :  but  wo  to  him  (that 
is)  alone  when  he  falleth  ;  for  ^/«'  hathj  not  another  to  help,  him 
Jl  up.  Again,  if  two  lie  together,  then  they  have  heat :  but  how  can 
12  one  be  warm  (alone? )  And  if  one  pirevail  against  him,  two  shall 
2  3  withstand  him  ;  and  a  three-fold  cord  is  not  quickly  broken.  Better 
(is  J  a  poor  and  a  wise  child  than  an  old  and  foolish  king,  who  will 

14  no  more  be  admonished.    For  out  of  prison  he  cometh  to  reign ; 

15  whereas  also  (he  that  is  J  born  in  his  kingdom  becomcth  poor.  I  con- 
sidered all  the  living  which  walk  under  the  sun,  with  the  second 

16  child  that  shall  stand  up  in  his  stead.  fThere  is)  no  end  of  all  the 
people,  feven)  of  all  that  have  been  before  them :  they  also  that 
come  after  shall  not  rejoice  in  him.  Surely  this  also  O'sJ  vanity  and 
vexation  of  spirit." 


Having  recorded  what,  in  his  survey  of  the  world, 
he  had  witnessed,  of  the  odious  character  of  the  oppres- 
sors of  mankind,  the  miseries  endured  by  the  poor  and 
unbefriended  victims  of  their  prostituted  power,  and 
the  distress  of  every  generous  spirit  in  being  a  spectator 
of  such  scenes: — Solomon  next  proceeds  to  notice 
those  sources  of  disquietude  which  are  peculiar  to 
benefactors.  For  even  they,  in  the  midst  of  their  disin- 


ECCLES.  IV.  4 — 10.  155 

terested  labours  for  the  good  of  others,  and  of  the  gene>= 
ral  esteem  of  society  thence  arising,  are  not  without 
their  springs  of  bitterness. 

Verse  4.  "  Again,  I  considered  all  travail,  and  every 
right  work  ;  that  for  this  a  man  is  envied  of  his  neigh- 
bour. This  (is)  also  vanity,  and  vexation  of  spirit." 

It  is  true,  that  a  good  man,  who  lays  himself  out  for 
the  benefit  of  others,  expending  his  labour,  and  sacri- 
ficing his  personal  interest,  to  advance  the  happiness  of 
mankind,  will  meet  with  general  affection  and  regard ; 
30  that  for  such  a  character,  on  his  own  account  and  on 
society's,  from  personal  esteem  and  public  spirit,  some 
might  be  found  willing  even  to  risk  and  to  forfeit  life 
itself: — *' Scarcely  for  a  righteous  man  will  one  die; 
yet  perad venture  for  a  good  man  some  would  even  dare 
to  die."* — But  let  a  man  in  eminent  station  act  ever 
so  constantly  from  the  purest  principles  of  generosity 
or  of  patriotism  ;  he  must  not  expect  to  escape  the  envy 
of  malignant,  or  the  jealousy  of  rival,  spirits  ;  the  latter 
seeking  to  supplant  him  and  to  rise  upon  his  ruins, -^ 
the  former,  like  Milton's  Satan, 

«'  Eyeing  him  askance  with  jealous  leer  malign," 

repining  at  his  very  excellencies,  sickening  at  the  sound 
of  his  praises,  and  gnawing  their  lips  at  his  rising  fame. 
Many,  many  a  time,  has  Envy,  by  its  open  hostility, 
and  still  more  successfully  by  its  secret  arts  of  detrac- 
tion and  calumny,  by  whispered  insinuations  and  hypo- 
critical regrets,  by  misrepresentation  of  motives  and 
exaggeration  of  failures,  blasted  the  reputation,  and 
ruined  the  prosperity,  of  the  most  excellent  and  justly 
eminent  characters.  It  is  a  principle  of  action  in  our 
fallen  nature,  proverbially  subtle,  and  proverbially  inde- 
fatigable in  its  devices  and  efforts  to  accomplish  the. 

*  Rom,  V.  7 


156  LECTURJi   Vll. 

degradation  of  its  unfortunate  victim  ;  and  it  is  also^ 
alas !  proverbially  successful.  "  Wrath  (is)  cruel,  and 
anger  (is)  outrageous  ;  but  who  (is)  able  to  stand  before 
envy?"  Wrath  and  anger,  although  unmerciful  and 
violent,  yet  are  usually  open  and  transient.  But  Envy 
*'  mines  unseen;"  pursues,  with  unwearied  activity,  its 
underground  machinations,  and  unites  so  much  artful- 
ness with  so  much  perseverance,  that — *'  who  is  able  to 
stand  before  it?"— The  dreadful  effects  of  this  malig- 
nant passion  are  variously  exemplified  in  the  records  of 
sacred  history.  It  was  envy  that  murdered  "  righteous 
Abel,"  and  stained  the  ground  with  the  first  effusion  of 
human  blood.  It  was  envy  that  extinguished  the  feel- 
ings of  natural  affection  in  the  breasts  of  Joseph's  bre- 
thren, when  they  cast  their  brother  into  the  pit,  and 
"sat  down  to  eat  bread;"  when  they  sold  him  for 
twenty  silverlings,  and,  silencing  the  inward  remon- 
strances of  filial  duty,  with  perfidious  and  relentless 
barbarity,  "pierced  with  many  sorrows"  the  heart  of 
their  aged  and  venerable  parent,  by  presenting  to  his 
distracted  sight  the  bloody  vestment  of  his  favourite 
boy.  It  was  envy  that  instigated  and  animated  the  per- 
secution of  Saul  against  the  unoffending  son  of  Jesse^ 
whose  stone  and  sling  had  saved  "  the  armies  of  the 
living  God,"  and  whom  the  virgins  of  Israel  had  placed 
above  the  monarch  in  their  songs  of  triumph  over  the 
^.anquished  host  of  the  Philistines.  It  was  envy,  in  the 
bosoms  of  the  priests  and  rulers  of  the  Jews,  that  "  de- 
nied the  prince  of  life,"  and  clamoured  for  the  cruci- 
fixion of  Him  who  was  "holy,  harmless,  undefiled,  and 
scpuralc  from  sinners."— Independently  of  the  success 
of  the  devices  of  envy,  whether  its  end  is  gained  or  not 
to  the  extent  of  its  malignant  wishes,  it  is  in  a  high  de- 
gree painful  to  the  spirit  of  a  good  man  to  be  the  ob= 


ECCLES.  IV.  4 16.  157 

ject  of  so  detestable  a  passion,  or  the  means  of  its  ex- 
citement in  the  bosoms  of  others.  If  he  suspects  its 
existence  and  operation,  he  must  be  subject  to  inces- 
sant apprehension  ;  and  if  not,  his  fall  may  come  upon 
him  by  surprise :— ere  he  is  aware  that  the  mine  has 
been  formed,  and  the  train  laid,  it  may  explode  at  once, 
to  his  inevitable  and  irretrievable  ruin.  Thus,  while 
envy  is  "  the  rottenness  of  the  bones"  to  the  man  who 
indulges  it  in  his  own  breast,  it  is  the  most  dangerous 
enemy  to  which  the  object  of  it  can  be  exposed.  It  has 
been  finely  said  of  charity,  that  it  is  ^^  doubly  blessed ; 
— it  blesses  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes."  Envy 
is  doubly  cursed ;  the  subject  and  the  object  of  it  it 
curses  alike.  Like  the  star  called  Wormwood,  that 
embittered  all  the  rivers  and  fountains  of  water  on 
which  it  fell,  it  poisons  and  bereaves  of  their  sweetness 
all  the  sources  and  streams  of  human  enjoyment. 

Amongst  the  objects  of  envy  are  to  be  included,  not 
only  such  benevolent  and  patriotic  characters  as  have 
been  mentioned,  but  all  who  are  favoured  with  any  un- 
usual measure  of  temporal  prosperity  ;  who  labour  with 
diligence,  and  are  crowned  with  success ;  even  although 
nothing  can  with  truth  be  laid  to  their  charge  inconsis- 
tent with  the  most  unsullied  integrity.  Envy  is  little 
mindful  of  truth.  Its  malignant  breath  can  sully  the 
fairest  fame.  It  hates  its  rival's  success,  and  it  grudges 
the  very  reputation  for  purity  of  principle  with  which 
that  success  is  accompanied.  "  I  considered  all  travail, 
and  everjj  right  work,  that  for  this  a  man  is  envied  of 
his  neighbour." 

Perceiving  this  to  be  the  case,  observing  the  jealousy 
which  attends  all  descriptions  of  eminence,  the  envy 
consequent  on  successful  exertions,  and  on  rising  pros- 
perity  and  honour,  the  spirit  of  detraction  that  is  drawn 


158  LECTURE  VII. 

forth  even  by  the  toils  and  sacrifices  of  disinterested 
benevolence,  and  the  unworthy  recompense  of  a  life 
devoted  to  the  public  good ;  some  are  tempted,  on  this 
and  similar  grounds,  to  excuse  and  to  indulge  their 
natural  propensity  to  indolence  and  inactivity.  But  this 
is  foolish.  All  indolence,  on  whatever  principles  men 
may  apologize  for  it,  is  folly  :  — 

Verse  5.  "  The  fool  foideth  his  hands  together  and 
eateth  his  own  flesh." 

This  may  be  understood,  as  I  have  hinted  in  intro- 
ducing the  verse,  as  the  picture  of  a  sluggard,  reducing 
himself  to  starvation  and  pining  wretchedness,  eating 
the  very  flesh  off  his  bones,  rather  than  put  his  hand  to  la- 
bour. ''  (Yet)  a  little  sleep,  a  litde  slumber,  a  little Jbld- 
ing  of  the  hands  to  sleep !  So  shall  thy  poverty  come 
as  one  that  travaileth,  and  thy  want  as  an  armed  man."* 
'^  The  soul  of  the  sluggard  desireth,  and  hath  nothing." 
'^The  sluggard  will  not  plow  by  reason  of  the  cold  ; 
therefore  shall  he  beg  in  harvest  and  have  nothing."— 
Ltt  no  one,  then,  from  the  observation  that  ^'  for  all 
travail  and  every  right  work  a  man  is  envied  of  his 
neighbour,"  draw  the  hasty  and  unwise  inference,  that 
it  is  better  to  do  nothing  :  for  he  who  "  folds  his  hands 
together,"  and  by  his  idleness  reduces  himself  to  "  eat- 
ing his  own  flesh,"  acts  the  part  of  a  fool ; — shows  him- 
self incapable  of  all  right  discrimination. 

If  the  sixth  verse  be  connected  with  this,  it  may  be 
interpreted  as  the  language  of  the  sluggard,  affecting 
wisdom,  and  vindicating  his  conduct  by  a  maxim  of 
prudential  consideration  :— for  of  the  sluggard  it  is  else- 
where said,  he  is  "  wiser  in  his  own  conceit,  than  seven 
men  that  can  render  a  reason."  He  may  here  be  under- 
stood to  say:— Let  others,  like  fools,  vainly  toil,  and 

*  Prov.vj.  10,  11. 


ECCLES.  IV.  4 — 6.  159 

harass^  and  vex  themselves,  if  they  will:— my  maxim 
is,  and  wiser  men  than  I  have  held  it,  "  Better  is  a  hand- 
ful with  quietness,  than  both  the  hands  full,  with  travail 
and  vexation  of  spirit." — The  sentiment,  properly  un- 
derstood and  applied,  is  just.  It  occurs  more  than  once 
in  the  Book  of  Proverbs  : — *'  Better  is  a  little  with  the 
fear  of  the  Lord,  than  great  treasure  and  trouble  there. 
with.  Better  (is)  a  dinner  of  herbs  where  love  is,  than 
a  stalled  ox  and  hatred  therewith."  "  Better  (is)  a  dry 
morsel  and  quietness  therewith,  than  a  house  full  of 
sacrifices  (with)  strife."*  But  it  is  a  sentiment  far  from 
being  applicable  to  the  indolent  and  useless  fool,  who 
"  folds  his  hands  together,  and  eats  his  own  flesh  ;" 
although  such  a  fool  may  gravely  cloak  his  folly  under 
the  misinterpreted  sayings  of  wisdom.  It  relates  to  the 
man  of  moderate  and  chastened  desires  ;  the  man  of 
<^  godliness  with  contentment;"  who,  instead  of  ''  hast- 
ing to  be  rich,"  recollects,  amidst  his  diligence  in  busi- 
ness, that  "  a  man's  life  consisteth  not  in  the  abundance 
of  the  things  which  he  possesseth  ;"  who  prefers  peace 
and  quietness,  and  domestic  comfort,  even  with  com- 
paratively slender  means,  to  superfluous  exuberance, 
with  bustle  and  strife. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  this  sixth  verse  be  connected 
with  what  follows,  it  will  stand  as  the  sentiment  of 
Solomon  himself,  the  sentiment  of  practical  wisdom, 
opposed  to  the  absurd  conduct  and  self-inflicted  misery 
of  the  friendless  and  solitary  miser,  who,  with  "  both 
the  hands  full,"  has  nothing  but  "  travail  and  vexation 
of  spirit." 

But  there  is  still  another  interpretation  which  may  be 
given  to  the  fifth  verse,  which  I  mention  rather  for  con- 
sideration than  with  confidence.     May   it  not  be  de- 

*  Prov.  XV.  16,  If.  xvii.  1. 


160  LfiCTURE  Vit. 

signed  to  express  the  wretchedness  of  the  man  who 
indidges  envy'?  Observe  the  connection  in  which  it 
stands.  In  the  fourth  verse,  we  have  the  evil  to  which 
even  the  man  of  benevolence  and  rectitude  may  be  ex- 
posed from  his  becoming  the  object  of  envy.  May  not 
the  fifth  verse,  then,  be  understood  of  the  misery  aris- 
ing from  this  malignant  passion  to  him  who  is  the  sub- 
ject of  it  ?  "  The  fool,"— the  envious  fool—"  foldeth 
his  hands  together,  and  eateth  his  own  flesh."  The 
malignant  temper  preys  upon  him,  and  engrosses  his 
thoughts  :— sleeping  and  waking,  it  haunts  him  : — he 
is  disinclined  from  labour : — he  *'  folds  his  hands 
together"  in  the  attitude  of  fretful  and  malignant  mus- 
ing; racking  his  invention  for  means  to  accomplish 
the  odious  purposes  of  his  heart.  But  he  is  inwardly 
wretched :— he  *'  eats  his  own  flesh"  with  vexation  of 
spirit :— he  pines  and  wastes  away  in  sullen  jealousy. 
He  may  succeed  in  effecting  the  downfal  and  ruin  of 
his  rival;  but  he  is  himself  a  miserable  fool. 

Verses  7,  8.  "  Then  I  returned,  and  I  saw  vanity 
under  the  sun.  There  is  one  (alone)  and  (there  is)  not 
a  second  ;  yea,  he  hath  neither  child  nor  brother ;  yet 
is  there  no  end  of  all  his  labour ;  neither  is  his  eye 
satisfied  with  riches ;  neither  (saith  he,)  For  whom  do 
I  labour  and  bereave  my  soul  of  good  ?  This  is  also 
vanity ;  yea,  it  is  a  sore  travail." 

This  is  a  strikingly  graphical,  though  brief  descrip- 
tion, of  the  avaricious  keenness  and  carefulness  of  a 
toiling,  griping,  hoarding,  insulated  miser.—"  There 
is  one,  and  there  is  not  a  second"— no  heir  apparent^ 
no  connection,  either  by  blood  or  by  particular  friend- 
ship, to  succeed  him ;  '<  neither  child  nor  brother," 
(that  is,  no  near  relative,)  to  inherit  his  accumulated 
treasures:—"  yet  is  there  no  end  of  all  his  labour:" 


ECCLES.  IV.  4 16.  161 

he  toils  with  unintermitting  solicitude,  "  rising  early 
and  sitting  late,"  nor  ever  can  bear  the  thought  of  re- 
tiring from  active  business,  as  long  as  he  can  add  a 
single  penny  by  it  to  his  store : — ''  neither  is  his  eye 
satisfied  with  riches ;"  constantly  either  contemplating 
his  acquisitions,  or  on  the  eager  look-out  for  more ; 
never  saying,  It  is  enough  ;  a  greedy  receiver,  but  a 
reluctant  and  parsimonious  giver.  He  takes  no  enjoy- 
ment of  his  wealth  ;  but  starves  in  the  midst  of  abun- 
dance ;  not  only  "  labouring,"  but  ^'  bereaving  his  soul 
of  good ;"  living  with  the  most  pitiful  penuriousness  ; 
grudging  himself  every  morsel  of  meat,  every  rag  of 
clothing,  every  common  comfort  of  life.  And  the  habit 
grows  upon  him  ;  he  becomes  increasingly  avaricious 
as  he  advances  in  wealth  and  in  years  ;  no  selfish  con- 
sideration can  move  him,  nor  any  claim  of  charity  touch 
his  soul ;  his  hollow  eye  contracts  the  timid  glance  of 
lurking  suspicion  ;  his  whole  countenance  the  marked 
and  settled  expression  of  anxiety  and  unfeeling  narrow- 
ness ;  and  his  wasted  frame,  his  antique  and  thread-bare 
clothing,  and  every  part  of  his  appearance,  betrays  the 
confirmed  and  unimpressible  miser.  Those  who  first 
assigned  this  designation  to  the  character  were  happy 
in  their  selection.  Miser  sin^'ifiQs  ivretched  ;  and  surely 
there  is  not  on  earth  a  more  pitiable  object  than  the 
man  here  described  ;  the  unhappy  victim  of  one  of  the 
strangest  aberrations  of  understanding ;  one  of  the  most 
unaccountable  contradictions  to  all  right  feeling,  and  to 
every  ordinary  principle  of  human  nature,  that  is  to  be 
found  amongst  the  intellectual  and  moral  varieties  of  the 
species. 

Solomon's  description  shows  us  that  these  varieties 
have,  in  every  age,  been  much  the  same.  Many  a  time 
has  it  since  been  realised,  with  wonderful  accuracy.— 
X 


16S  LECTURE  Vn. 

The  character  may  be  traced  to  various  origins.  lo 
some  instances,  it  has  arisen  from  a  fatal  error  in  edu- 
cation,—from  early  and  ill-judged  lessons  of  excessive 
parsimony  impressed  upon  the  youthful  mind,  gradu- 
ally forming  in  the  heart  an  undue  "  love  of  money,'* 
a  habitual  desire  of  getting,  and  dread  of  losing,  or  of 
being  necessitated  to  give  away  : — in  other  cases,  from 
the  apprehension  and  presentiment  of  a  diseased  mind,— 
a  hypochrondriacal  foreboding  of  approaching  poverty, 
of  dying  in  want ;  an  evil,  to  which  every  penny  that 
is  lost  or  parted  with  is  of  course  conceived  by  the  dis- 
ordered imagination  to  contribute  : — and  in  others  still, 
from  the  weak-minded  vanity  of  being  noticed  and 
spoken  of,  during  life,  and  after  death,  as  the  possessor 
of  so  much  wealth,  or  as  the  man  that  had  left  it  behind 
him.— From  whatever  source  it  may  have  arisen,  and 
whatever  may  have  promoted  its  growth,  it  is  well  de- 
nominated *'  vanity  and  a  sore  travail.''^  The  poor  rich 
fool  lives  in  misery,  and  dies  unlamented.  Those, 
whosoever  they  may  be,  to  whom  he  bequeaths  his 
wealth,  give  him  little  thanks  for  it.  He  has  only  given 
it  when  he  could  hold  it  no  longer.  He  has  not  parted 
with  it ;  he  has  been  obliged  to  leave  it ;  and  not  one 
farthing  of  it,  they  know  well,  should  they  ever  have 
touched,  could  he  by  any  possibility  have  retained  pos- 
session. They  are  glad  the  useless  old  fellow  is  out  of 
the  way  ;  they  lay  him  in  the  dust  without  a  sigh  ;  and 
with  secret  self-gratulation,  take  possession  of  his 
hoards. 

The  character  and  dreary  friendlessness  of  the 
wretched  miser  probably  suggested  to  Solomon's  mind 
the  subject  of  the  following  verses,— the  benefits  of 
society  and  friendship. 

Verses  9—12.  ^<  Two  (are)  better  than  one ;  because 


ECCLES.  IV.  4 — -16.  163 

they  have  a  good  reward  for  their  labour.  For  if  they 
fall,  the  one  will  lift  up  his  fellow ;  but  wo  to  him 
(that  is)  alone  when  he  falleth  ;  for  (he  hath)  not  another 
to  help  him  up.  Again,  if  two  lie  together  then  they 
have  heat :  but  how  can  one  be  warm  (alone  ?)  And 
if  one  prevail  against  him,  two  shall  withstand  him  ;  and 
a  three-fold  cord  is  not  easily  broken." 

The  figures  which  are  employed  in  these  verses  arc 
in  themselves  so  plain  as  to  require  no  explanation. 
They  are  all  intended  to  illustrate  the  same  general  sen- 
timent,— the  advantages  of  union  and  co-operation;  and 
the  sentiment  may  be  applied  to  every  description  of 
faithful  and  well-principled  alliance, — to  marriage,  to 
friendship,  to  Christian  communion.  Many  and  valua- 
ble are  the  benefits  of  such  association  amidst  the 
changes  of  this  uncertain  world ;  some  common  to  all 
the  varieties  of  union,  and  some  peculiar  to  each.  It 
affords  to  the  parties  mutual  counsel  and  direction, 
especially  in  seasons  of  perplexity  and  embarrassment; 
mutual  sympathy,  consolation,  and  care,  in  the  hour 
of  calamity  and  distress;  mutual  encouragement  in 
anxiety  and  depression  ;  mutual  aid,  by  the  joint  ap- 
plication of  bodily  or  mental  energy  to  difiicult  and 
laborious  tasks ;  mutual  relief  amidst  the  fluctuations 
of  worldly  circumstances,  the  abundance  of  the  one 
reciprocally  supplying  the  deficiencies  of  the  other; 
mutual  defence  and  vindication,  when  the  character  of 
either  is  injuriously  attacked  and  defamed  ;  and  (what 
may  be  considered  as  particularly  appropriate  to  the 
phraseology  of  the  tenth  verse)  mutual  reproof  and  af- 
fectionate expostulation  when  either  has,  through  the 
power  of  temptation,  fallen  into  sin  : — "  Wo  to  him 
that  is  alone  when  he"  so  "  falleth,  and  hath  not  another 
to  help  hinri  up  !"  no  one  to  care  for  his  soul,  and  to 
restore  him  to  the  paths  of  righteousness. 


164  LECTURE  yii. 

In  all  cases,  union, — affectionate,  principled,  faithful 
union, — the  connection  and  intercourse  of  kindred  souls, 
—must  be  eminently  productive  of  reciprocal  satisfac- 
tion and  delight.  As  "  when  two  lie  together  they  have 
heat ;"  so  two  hearts,  in  friendly  contact,  warm  each 
other  vath  the  glow  of  mutual  love,  at  once  imparting 
and  receiving  sensations  of  the  purest  pleasure.  Nor  is 
the  enjoyment,  exquisite  though  it  be,  arising  from  the 
interchange  of  congenial  affections,  the  whole  of  the 
benefit.  Such  union  gives  stability  and  strength  : — ^'  if 
one  prevail  against  him,  two  shall  withstand  him  ;  and 
a  three-fold  cord  is  not  quickly  broken." — The  fable 
of  the  bundle  of  rods,  by  which  the  dying  father  taught 
his  sons  the  benefit  of  union,  has  been  familiar  to  all 
of  you  from  your  childhood.  The  rods,  when  bound 
together,  resisted  all  their  efforts  to  break  them  ;  but 
when  untied,  and  taken  one  by  one,  they  were  succes- 
sively snapped  with  ease.  The  '*  three-fold  cord"  con- 
veys the  same  lesson.  Twined  together,  the  filaments 
are  strong ;  untwined  and  separate,  they  are  slender 
and  feeble.  Thus  it  is,  that  a  union  of  interests,  coun- 
sels,  and  efforts  gives  vigour  and  animation,  both  in 
spiritual  connections,  and  in  the  relations  of  nature  and 
of  business. 

It  was  on  the  principle  here  stated,  ^'  two  are  better 
than  one,"  that  the  marriage  relation  was,  in  part  at 
least,  originally  founded.  "  The  Lord  God  said,  It  is 
not  good  that  the  man  should  be  alone  ;  I  will  make 
him  a  help  meet  for  him."— It  is  on  the  same  principle 
that  men  collect  together  in  society,  and  that  all  their 
various  combinations  and  partnerships  are  formed,  for 
the  successful  prosecution  of  particular  ends.  Righ- 
teous  and  wicked  alike  recognize  and  act  upon  this  prin- 
ciple ;  the  former  for  the  accomplishment  of  good,  the 


ECCLES.  IV.  4 — 16.  165 

latter  for  the  perpetration  of  evil.— It  is  on  the  same 
principle  too,  beloved  brethren  in  the  Lord,  that  all  the 
institutions  of  social  religion  have  their  vindication  and 
their  use.  He  who  "  knoweth  what  is  in  man"  was  well 
aware  that  it  was  not  good  for  his  people's  spiritual 
interests,  that  they  should  be  alone  ;  each  individual 
pursuing  his  course  by  himself.  He  commanded  their 
association  in  churches,  in  the  bond  of  spiritual  love, 
and  appointed  ordinances  of  public  worship,  and  laws 
of  social  intercourse  :  that,  in  the  due  observance  of 
these,  they  might  strengthen  one  another's  hands  and 
encourage  one  another's  hearts,  and  mutually  "  pro- 
voke to  love  and  to  good  works." 

The  concluding  verses  of  the  chapter  contain  some 
of  the  mortifications  of  royalty,  of  which  Solomon  might 
well  speak  with  freedom,  being  himself  the  wearer  of 
a  crovi/n. 

Royalty,  alas  !  is  not  always  associated  with  wis- 
dom :  and  where  wisdom  is  awanting,  advancing  age 
very  generally  adds  to  imbecility  and  folly,  self-will, 
obstinacy,  and  headstrong  contempt  of  counsel : — Verse 
13-  "  Better  (is)  a  poor  and  wise  child,  than  an  old  and 
foolish  king,  Avho  will  no  more  be  admonished." — 
"  Better" — that  is,  happier,  and  more  really  useful. 
The  influence  of  the  "  wise  child"  is  limited  indeed  ; 
but  as  far  as  it  reaches  in  the  humble  sphere  of  life  in 
which  his  lot  is  cast,  it  is  essentially  good:  but  the 
"  foohsh  king"  has  extensive  power  ;  and  when  power 
is  in  league  with  folly,  the  boundaries  of  its  extent  are 
only  the  limits  of  its  mischief.  Nothing  indeed  can  be 
conceived  more  deplorable,  than  imbecility  united  with 
obstinacy,  and  both  in  combination  with  authority  and 
force. 

Further :  the  *'  wise  child/'  although  poor,  is,  by 


166  LECTURE  VII. 

the  possession  of  wisdom,  in  the  way  to  reputation, 
preferment,  and  honour  ;  whereas  the  '^  foolish  king," 
in  the  midst  of  riches  and  external  glory,  is,  by  his  folly, 
in  the  way  to  poverty,  degradation,  and  disgrace.  The 
vvisdom  of  the  one  may  advance  him  to  a  sceptre ;  the 
folly  of  the  other,  as  recorded  experience  testifies,  may 
wrest  the  sceptre  from  his  hand. 

This  is  probably  the  meaning  of  the  fourteenth  verse, 
in  which  Solomon  assigns  the  reason  of  his  preference  : 
— "  For  out  of  prison  he  cometh  to  reign ;  whereas 
also  (he  that  is)  born  in  his  kingdom  becometh  poor." 

The  "  poor  and  wise  child"  rises  from  the  state  of 
meanness  and  of  oppression  to  a  throne  ;  whilst  the 
"  old  and  foolish  king,"  though  "  born  in  his  king- 
dom, becometh  poor."  The  wisdom  of  the  one,  when 
known  and  appreciated,  rescues  him  from  oppression, 
draws  him  forth  from  obscurity,  and  promotes  him  to 
influence,  and  honour,  and  command.  The  folly  of  the 
other,  felt  in  its  mischievous  and  galling  effects,  shakes 
the  stability  of  his  hereditary  throne.  Though  he  has 
obtained  the  kingdom  by  inheritance,  and,  through  the 
sufferance  of  a  burdened,  and  dishonoured,  and  harassed 
people,  has  long  continued  to  wear  the  crown  in  this 
right,  from  regard,  it  may  be,  to  former  princes  of  the 
same  dynasty  ;  yet  by  his  mal-administration  he  ex- 
hausts his  treasures,  destroys  the  national  credit,  brings 
his  government  to  bankruptcy,  and  himself  either  to  a 
necessary  though  constrained  abdication,  or  to  a  forca- 
ble  deposition  from  his  dignity,  by  his  own  subjects, 
or  by  the  interference  of  a  foreign  power. — There  is 
possibly  an  allusion  in  the  passage,  (and  if  there  be,  it 
can  be  no  more  than  an  allusion,  for  in  some  respects 
there  is  no  parallelism,)  to  the  oppression  and  advance- 
ment of  Joseph :  on  which  supposition,  the  verse  will 


i 


ECCLES.  IV.  4 — 16.  167 

contain  a  general  sentiment  under  a  reference  to  a  par- 
ticular case. 

Another  view  of  this  verse  has  suggested  itself  to  my 
mind,  which  it  may  be  worth  while  just  to  mention, 
although  the  explanation  already  given  seems  the  pre- 
ferable  one. — "  Out  of  prison  he  cometh  to  reign"  may 
be  interpreted,  not  of  the  child,  but  of  the  king.  A 
monarch  of  the  character  described  is  a  prisoner  in  his 
palace.  He  knows,  and  cannot  but  feel,  his  unpopu- 
larity :  and  when  he  comes  forth  amongst  his  subjects 
in  the  administration  of  his  government,  he  comes  forth, 
like  a  prisoner  from  confinement,  to  which  he  is  imme- 
diately to  be  remanded  again  ;  feeling  none  of  the  con- 
fidence of  freedom,  none  of  the  fearless  security  and 
unreserved  openness,  of  him  who  reigns  in  the  hearts 
of  a  grateful  and  happy  people,  but  full  of  apprehensions, 
and  jealousies,  and  alarms  ;  suspicious  of  all  about  him, 
and  even  of  the  very  guards  that  have  sworn  fidelity  to 
his  royal  person  :— a  state  of  mind  by  which  the  latter 
days  of  some  "  old  and  foolish  kings"  have  been  most 
fearfully  distracted. 

"  Whereas  also,  (he  that  is)  born  in  his  kingdom  be- 
cometh  poor,"  will  then  refer  to  the  tendency  of  his 
impolitic  and  infatuated  measures,  to  ruin  trade  and 
commerce,  and  reduce  his  hapless  subjects  to  poverty 
and  wretchedness. 

The  former  view,  however,  presents  a  natural  con- 
trast  between  the  two  descriptions  of  character  mentioned 
in  the  thirteenth  verse,  in  regard  to  their  respective  ten- 
dencies ;  of  the  one  to  elevation  and  honour,  of  the 
other  to  depression  and  disgrace  :  and  it  is  therefore, 
in  all  probability,  the  true  meaning. 

In  the  two  last  verses  of  the  chapter  there  is  a  good 
deal  of  obscurity ; — 


168  LECTURE  VII. 

"  I  considered  all  the  living  who  walk  under  the  sun, 
with  the  second  child  that  shall  rise  up  in  his  stead. 
(There  is)  no  end  of  all  the  people,  (even)  of  all  that 
have  been  before  them  :  they  also  that  come  after  shall 
not  rejoice  in  him.  Surely  this  also  (is)  vanity,  and 
vexation  of  spirit." 

The  general  idea  intended  to  be  conveyed  by  these 
verses  seems  to  be,  the  inconstancy  and  fickleness  of 
popular  attachment  to  favourite  rulers^  and  the  mortifi- 
cation thence  arising  to  the  possessors  of  Royal  ho- 
nour. "  I  considered  all  the  living  that  walk  under  the 
sun  with  the  second  child  that  shall  rise  up  in  his  stead;" 
— that  is,  with  the  child  his  second,  or  successor.  Such 
is  the  meaning  of  the  same  word  in  the  eighth  verse, 
where  the  solitary  miser  is  represented  as  having  no 
second, — no  successor  to  his  wealth.  So  here,  the  child 
that  is  second  to  the  reigning  prince  is  the  child  that 
is  to  succeed  him  in  the  government, — the  heir  appa- 
rent to  the  throne  Solomon  "^'  considered,"  not  only  how 
rapidly,  how  immediately,  upon  the  demise  of  the  pre- 
sent occupant  of  the  throne,  the  attachment  shown  to 
him  was  transferred  to  his  successor,  how  quickly  ser- 
vility to  the  latter  jostled  out  the  memory  of  the  for- 
mer ;  but  he  further  observed,  that  even  in  the  old 
king's  lifetime,  when  symptoms  discovered  themselves 
of  his  end  drawing  near,  the  heir  was  sedulously  court- 
ed, though  v/ith  greater  and  less  degrees  of  delicacy  ; 
interest  was  made  with  him,  and  insinuating  adulation 
addressed  to  him ;  he  became  the  object  of  attention 
and  solicitation  ;  whilst  the  aged  sire,  whose  favour, 
having  lost  its  prospective  influence,  had  declined  in 
value,  was  neglected,  and  sunk  into  contempt.  He 
marked  the  prevailing  propensity  of  men,  whether 
from  motives  of  self-interest,  or  from  the  mere  love  of 


ECCLES.  IV.  4 — 16.  169 

change,  to  disregard  the  setting  and  to  worship  the  ri- 
sing sun. 

This  fickleness,  having  its  source  in  the  principles 
of  man's  fallen  nature,  had  existed  in  preceding  ages* 
existed  in  Solomon's  own  days,  and  was  more  than 
likely  to  continue  in  after  times: — Verse  16.  "  (There 
is)  no  end  of  all  the  people,  (even)  of  all  that  have  been 
before  them  ;  ihey  also  that  come  after  shall  not  rejoice 
in  him.  Surely  this  also  (is)  vanity  and  vexation  of 
spirit." — "  JVo  end^^  seems  here  to  mean,  no  fixed  point 
in  which  the  people  can  rest  with  any  settled  satisfac- 
tion ;  they  have  no  stability ;  they  never  reach  an  ob- 
ject in  which  their  gratification  is  permanent, — a  goal 
of  their  capricious  and  fluctuating  desires.  They  are 
ever  fickle,  ever  fond  of  novelty  and  change. — ^'  There 
is  no  end  to  all  the  people."  They  have  all,  in  this  re- 
spect, the  same  generic  character ;  in  having  no  termi- 
nating point  and  settled  resting  place  to  their  views  and 
wishes.  So  it  was  with  "  all  the  people,"  forming  the 
generation  of  Solomon's  contemporaries;  so  it  had 
been  with  *'  all  who  were  before  them  ;"  and  "  they 
also  who  were  to  come  after"  would  discover  the  same 
tendency. 

Should  it  be  doubted,  whether  the  word  translated 
end  be  susceptible  of  the  signification  thus  assigned  to 
it,  then  the  meaning  must  be  : — "  There  is  no  end  to 
all  the  people  ;"  new  generations  have  been  continually 
following  each  other,  and  the  same  course  of  succession 
is  now  going  on,  and  shall  continue  in  after  ages  ;  and 
each  generation  in  its  turn  brings  with  it  its  own  pecu- 
liarities, its  own  likings  and  dislikings, — ne^  men,  in- 
fluenced by  new  circumstances,  seeking  after  new  things, 
and  attaching  themselves  to  new  favourites,  and  new 
systems  of  administration. 
Y 


170  LECTURE   VII. 

Such  had  been  the  case.  The  inconstancy  complained 
of,  Solomon  knew,  from  ancient  history,  to  have  cha- 
racterized former  generations.  He  had  even  seen  it  af- 
fcctingly  exemplified  within  the  same  generation,  in 
the  life-time  of  his  own  father.  It  had  been  strikingly 
displayed,  in  that  "  cloudy  and  dark  day"  of  David's 
reign,  when  "  the  hearts  of  the  men  of  Israel  were  after 
Absalom,"  alienated  from  the  father,  who  had  com- 
menced his  reign  under  such  decided  indications  of 
popular  attachment,  by  the  insinuating  flatteries  and 
promises  of  his  unnatural  son.  And  still  more  recently, 
in  the  extreme  age  of  "  the  man  after  God's  heart,"  at 
a  time  when  the  reverence  of  filial  affection  ought  to 
have  restrained  the  stirrings  and  aspirations  of  an  ambi- 
tious spirit,  Adonijah  had  "exalted  himself,  and  said,  I 
will  be  king ;"  had  *•  prepared  him  chariots  and  horse- 
men, and  fifty  men  to  run  before  him  ;"  and  had  formed 
a  faction  in  support  of  his  claims  ;  thus  ungratefully  re- 
quiting the  partial  fondness  of  a  father,  by  disturbing 
and  embittering  his  old  age,  and  drawing  away  from 
him  the  affections  of  his  people  ere  his  time  of  depar- 
ture was  come.  How  afflicting  this  to  the  Jat/ier  /  And 
how  mortifying  to  the  monarch,  to  witness  the  readi- 
ness of  his  people  to  attach  themselves  to  another,  even 
while  he  himself,  who  had  "  gone  in  and  out  before 
them"  during  the  best  of  his  days,  was  yet  alive  !  And 
even  in  the  case  of  Solomon  himself,  the  necessity  for 
whose  immediate  proclamation  arose  from  the  rebellion 
of  Adonijah,  such  feelings  of  secret  mortification  could 
not  fail  to  mingle  with  the  sentiments  of  parental  and 
regal  satisfaction.  Although  Solomon  was  the  dear  and 
promising  son  of  a  beloved  mother,  and  his  successor 
ill  the  throne  by  previous  Divine  intimation  and  his 
own  delighted  approval,  yet  the  public  rejoicings  at  his 


ECCLES.  IV.  4 — 16.  17 < 

coronation,  when  "  the  people  came  up  after  him, 
piping  with  pipes,  and  exulting  with  great  joy,  and 
shouting,  'God  save  king  Solomon!'  so  that  the  city 
rang  again,  and  the  earth  rent  with  the  sound  of  them,"* 
however  gratifying  to  the  ear  both  of  the  loving  father 
and  the  patriot  king,  could  not  but  draw  the  sigh  from 
his  heart,  and  the  inward  exclamation,  "  Vanity  of  vani- 
ties!"— when  in  the  plaudits  of  a  rejoicing  people  he 
heard  the  name  of  another  so  easily  substituted  for  his 
own.  And  the  scene  must  have  been  affecting  to  the 
son,  as  well  as  to  the  father ;  royal  anticipations  mingling 
with  tender  fdial  regrets.  It  read  him  a  salutary  lesson 
of  humility  in  the  very  outset  of  his  reign,  when  sur- 
rounded with  so  much  that  was  fitted  to  intoxicate  and 
bewilder  a  youthful  mind. 

It  was  now  a  mortifying  reflection  to  Solomon,  that 
the  same  fickleness  was  still  an  attribute  of  the  popular 
character ;  and  that  what  had  been  seen  by  him,  in  the 
case  of  his  father,  would  soon  be  repeated  in  his  own 
and  in  his  successor's.  The  heir  apparent  would  be 
courted,  as  the  future  source  of  coveted  honours :  and 
he  too,  on  his  rising  to  the  throne,  would  have  his  day, 
and  in  his  turn  be  neglected,  and  give  place  to  another : 
— "  They  also  that  come  after  him  shall  not  rejoice  in 
him." — This  is  surely  a  galling  and  humbling  conside- 
ration to  Royalty.  Let  not  the  young  prince  exult  in 
the  court  that  is  paid  to  him.  Let  him  consider  how 
much  of  it  is  the  product  of  selfishness ;  and  be  assured 
that  his  own  day  of  mortification  is  coming,  and  may 
not  be  distant.  Let  the  rising  sun,  in  the  morning  of  his 
glory,  and  amidst  his  crowd  of  worshippers,  remember 
that  he  must  set ;  and  that  even  ere  he  hath  gone  down, 
another  luminary,  emerging  from  the  opposite  horizon. 

*  I  Kings  i,  39,40,45. 


i72  LECTURE  VII. 

will  throw  his  evening  splendours  into  shade,  and  draw 
away  from  him  the  admiring  eyes  and  selfish  acclama- 
tions of  those  flatterers,  who  hailed  his  own  ascent,  and 
waited  with  their  adulations  on  his  course !  This 
thought  is  enough,  of  itself,  to  repress  the  swellings  of 
vain-glory,  and  to  heave  with  a  sigh  the  bosom  that  is 
invested  with  the  purple  ;— "  Surely,  this  also  (is)  vani- 
ty, and  vexation  of  spirit!" 

From  this  passage  let  us,  in  the  Jlrst  place,  learn,  to 
let  nothing  discourage  us  in  well-doing. 

Let  not  the  consideration  in  the  fourth  verse,  that 
*'  for  every  right  work  a  man  is  envied  of  his  neigh- 
bour," restrain  us  from  the  active  and  fearless  pursuit 
of  what  is  glorifying  to  God,  or  profitable  to  men.  On 
the  contrary,  "  whatsoever  our  hand  findeth  to  do," 
for  either  of  these  ends,  or  for  the  comfort  and  reputa- 
tion and  usefulness  of  ourselves  and  families,  let  us 
*'  do  it  with  our  might."  If  we  should  be  the  ob- 
jects of  envy,  it  is  better  that  we  be  envied  for  emi- 
nence in  good  deeds,  than  for  success  and  prosperity 
in  evil.  This  is  true,  indeed,  of  all  descriptions  of  suf- 
fering,  as  well  as  of  what  arises  from  envy.  *'  (It  is) 
better,  if  the  will  of  God  be  so,  that  ye  suffer  for  well- 
doing, than  for  evil-doing."*  It  is  a  man^s  honour  to 
be  envied  on  such  grounds.  And  if  this  malignant  spirit 
should  gratify  itself  in  the  invention  and  propagation  of 
reproach  and  calumny,  we  shall  have  the  inward  satis- 
faction of  knowing  its  falsehood ;  *'  having  a  good  con- 
science,"—a  treasure  on  such  occasions,  of  inestimable 
value,  which  "  cannot  be  gotten  for  gold,  neither  shall 
hilver  be  weighed  for  the  price  of  it;"  the  possession  of 
which  will  support  the  victim  of  envy,  and  be  *'  his 
rcjoiGing,"  even  if  that  unholy  passion  should  be  sue- 

*  1  Pet.  iii.  IT. 


ECCLES.  IV.  4 16.  173 

ressful  in  its  unworthy  machinations  to  "  cast  him 
down  from  his  excellency." — We  cannot  and  ought 
not  to  be  indifferent  about  the  opinion  of  our  fellow- 
men,  and  the  reputation  we  hold  amongst  them.  Reli- 
gious  principle  concurs  with  the  feelings  of  nature,  in 
inculcating  the  propriety  of  preventing  and  disarming 
envy,  and  counteracting,  by  all  honourable  means,  its 
mischievous  devices.  Yet  let  us,  my  dear  brethren,  be 
under  the  habitual  influence  of  a  higher  principle  than 
regard  to  the  judgment  of  men.  Let  the  fear  of  God 
rule  in  our  hearts ; — a  sacred  awe  of  his  supremacy,  a 
conscience  "  quick  as  the  apple  of  an  eye"  to  the  dic- 
tates of  his  will,  a  constant  reference  of  all  things  to  his 
glory  as  our  end,  and,  in  dependence  on  his  faithfulness, 
a  believing  anticipation  of  the  fulfilment  of  his  "  ex- 
ceeding great  and  precious  promises." — "  Commit  thy 
way  unto  the  Lord ;  trust  also  in  him,  and  he  will  bring 
(it)  to  pass :  and  he  shall  bring  forth  thy  righteousness 
as  the  light,  and  thy  judgment  as  the  noon-day."  "  Let 
us  not  be  weary  in  well-doing :  for  in  due  season  we 
shall  reap,  if  we  faint  not."  Having  rightly  improved 
our  talents  in  our  Master's  employ,  under  the  influence 
of  faith  and  love,  he  will  say  to  us  at  last — "  Well  done, 
good  and  faithful  servant ;  thou  hast  been  faithful  over 
a  few  things,  I  will  make  thee  ruler  over  many  things ; 
enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord."* 

Secondly.  "  Take  heed,  and  beware  of  covetousnessJ*' 
—There  are  few  passions  more  progressive  in  their  na- 
ture than  avarice,  when  a  man  has  once  fairly  yielded  to 
it  so  far  as  to  give  it  a  place  in  his  bosom  as  a  principle 
of  conduct.  Beware  of  it,  then,  in  its  earliest  and  most 
specious  commencements.  Give  no  ear  to  its  penurious 
and  niggardly  suggestions.  It  is  mean,  sordid,  and  de- 

*  Psal.  xsxvii.  5,  6.  G«l.  vi.  9.  Matt,  sxv.  9.1. 


174  LECTURE  Vll. 

spicable  in  itself,  and  being  directly  opposed,  in  princi- 
ple and  practice,  to  the  ends  for  which  wealth,  accord- 
ing to  the  maxims  of  the  Bible,  ought  to  be  sought,  it 
is  contrary  to  the  express  will  of  God,  the  giver  of  all 
that  is  enjoyed  by  men.  The  duty  of  a  Christian  is,  to 
**  labour,  working  with  his  hands  the  thing  that  is  good, 
that  he  may  have  to  give  to  him  that  needeth:''^  to 
*'  honour  the  Lord  with  his  substance,  and  with  the 
first-fruits  of  all  his  increase." — O  beware,  (for  the 
heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things,)— beware  of  cloaking 
the  odious  principle  against  v/hich  I  have  now,  in  the 
words  of  the  Saviour  himself,  been  admonishing  you, 
under  the  sage  and  plausible  maxims  of  discretion,  and 
economy,  and  providence.  The  maxims  may  be  just; 
but  the  use  made  of  them  is  an  infamous  perversion. 
Nothing,  however,  is  more  common,  than  to  cloak  what 
is  evil  under  the  specious  semblance  of  vvhat  is  good. 
How  often  do  we  see  men,  and  men  too  professing  the 
benevolent  religion  of  Him  who,  *'  though  he  was  rich, 
for  our  sakes  became  poor,"  anxiously  scraping  toge- 
ther with  one  hand,  and  holding  fast  with  the  other,  as 
if  in  jealous  dread  of  a  single  atom  escaping,  and  pal- 
liating  and  excusing  their  conduct,  by  common-place 
observations,  delivered  with  the  air  of  deep  and  oracular 
wisdom,  as  to  the  necessity  and  duty  of  carefulness, 
and  the  sin  and  danger  of  extravagance.  In  condemn- 
ing one  extreme,  they  fancy  they  have  justified  its  op- 
posite. Some  men  are  foolishly  profuse;  therefore  they 
must  be  hard  and  niggardly  : — some  men  give  away 
what  is  not  their  own  ;  therefore  they  must  take  care 
how  they  part  with  what  is : — they  cannot  do  every 
thing  ;  and  this  is  their  regular  apology  for  doing  no- 
thing. Have  not  you  met  with  such  characters  ? — and 
ijave  not  }'ou  despised  them  ?    Beware,  then,  of  ever 


ECCLES,  IV.  4 — "16.  175 

becoming  their  imitators.  *'  Look  not,  every  man,  on 
his  own  things,  but  every  man  also  on  the  things  of 
others:* let  this  mind  be  in  you,  which  was  also  in 
Christ  Jesus."  I  repeat  his  words  :  "  Take  heed,  and 
beware  of  covetousness."— Ye  parents,  beware,  in  the 
education  of  your  children,  of  impressing  on  their 
minds  the  wretched  maxims  of  penurious  hoarding, 
and  grudging  parsimony.  Prudence  and  economy,  in- 
deed, they  ought  to  be  taught,  both  by  precept  and  ex- 
ample :  but  oh !  let  it  be  a  generous  prudence,  and  not 
a  selfish  economy.  Of  extravagance,  there  are  two  de- 
scriptions; the  extravagance  of  selfishness,  and  the  ex- 
travagance of  charity.  The  one  grudges  no  expendi- 
ture of  which  the  end  is  self- gratification  ;  the  other  is 
the  indiscreet  overflowing  of  a  generous  heart,  under 
the  impulse  of  feeling  rather  than  of  judgment,  The 
former  requires  to  be  steadily  restrained.  The  latter 
must  be  managed  with  much  caution  and  gentleness^ 
lest,  in  cur  attempts  to  repress  the  practice,  we  crush 
the  principle  ;  lest  in  reprimanding  and  punishing  pro- 
fusion, we  destroy  charity.  Do  not  frown  on  an  act  of 
generosity,  because,  in  the  glow  of  youthful  emotion, 
the  limits  of  prudence  have  been  overstepped.  Give 
your  approving  smile  to  the  motive,  whilst  you  gently 
show  the  injudiciousness  of  the  deed.  If  the  case  be 
such,  that  to  criticise  the  act  might  expose  the  princi- 
ple to  hazard,  spare  your  criticism  ;  and  let  time  and 
experience,  and  growing  knowledge,  be  the  correctors 
of  the  conduct.  These  will  gradually  modify  and  regu- 
late the  inward  impulses  and  the  outward  acts  of  cha- 
rity. But  beware  of  the  encroachments  of  avarice.  No- 
thing  can  be  more  incongruous  than  a  youthful  spirit 
under  the  rule  of  this  odious  passion,  and  nothing  more 
gloomily  unpromising.  To  teach  your  children  avarice. 


176  LECTURE  Vlt. 

is  to  teach  them  what  will  ^*  grow  with  their  growth 3 
and  strengthen  with  their  strength  ;  and,  in  its  pro- 
gress and  maturity,  will  make  them  despicable  in  so- 
ciety, miserable  in  themselves,  and  useless  to  others. 

Thirdly.  Let  us,  my  dear  Christian  brethren,  rejoice 
in  our  union,  and  steadily  maintain  it,  in  the  exercise  of 
principled  and  faithful  love ;  that  we  may  secure  to 
ourselves  and  to  one  another  its  inestimable  advanta- 
ges.— To  no  kind  of  association  is  the  saying,  "  two 
are  better  than  one,"  more  decidedly  applicable,  than 
to  that  of  the  fellowship  of  the  church  of  Christ.  Dis- 
union is,  in  every  view,  disheartening  and  debilitating  ; 
cordial  union  animating  and  strengthening.— Universal 
experience  says  so  ; — our  own  experience  says  so.  A 
church  divided  against  itself  cannot  stand,  any  more 
than  a  kingdom  or  a  family.  In  division,  Satan  obtains 
an  advantage  over  us,  through  the  want  of  the  mutual 
counsels,  admonitions,  and  encouragements,  of  Chris- 
tian love  ;  and  he  obtains  an  advantage  too  over  the 
cause  of  the  Redeemer,  by  slackening  the  vigour  of 
cordial  co-operation  for  its  advancement.  ^'  Suffer  ye," 
then,  "  the  word  of  exhortation."  Let  me  affectionately 
beseech  you,  in  the  language  of  inspired  authority, 
"  that  ye  walk  worthy  of  the  vocation  wherewith  ye  are 
called  j  with  all  lowliness  and  meekness,  with  long-suf- 
fering,  forbearing  one  another  in  love ;  endeavouring 
to  keep  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace :" 
— "  that  ye  stand  fast  in  one  spirit,  with  one  mind,  striv- 
ing together  for  the  faith  of  the  gospel :" — "  that  ye 
hold  fast  the  profession  of  your  faith  without  wavering, 
for  he  is  faithful  who  hath  promised  ;  and  consider  one 
another,  to  provoke  unto  love  and  to  good  works ;  not 
forsaking  the  assembling  of  yourselves  together,  as  the 
manner  of  some  (is,)  but  exhorting  (one  another  ;}  and 


EccLEs.  IV.  4 — 16.  lyy 

so  much  the  more,  as  ye  see  the  day  approaching.'* 
Agreeably  to  the  description  in  the  verses  that  have 
been  under  review,  of  the  mutual  benefits  of  union, 
"  warn  them  that  are  unruly,  comfort  the  feeble-mind- 
ed, support  the  weak,  be  patient  toward  all  men."  "  Fi- 
nally, brethren,  be  perfect,  be  of  good  comfort,  be  of 
one  mind,  live  in  peace ;  and  the  God  of  love  and  peace 
shall  be  with  you."  Thus  shall  you  know,  by  increas- 
ing experience,  "  how  good  and  how  pleasant  (it  is,) 
for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity ;"  and  "  the 
Lord  will  command  the  blessing,  (even)  life  for  ever- 
more."* 

Fourthly.  Beware  of  seeking  your  happiness  in  the 
favour  and  applause  of  men.  Alas !  it  is  fickle  and 
mutable  as  the  very  wind. 


-••  Say,  what  is  fame 


It  is  a  fancied  life  in  others  breath, 

A  thing  beyond  us,  even  before  our  death." 

The  courtier,  whose  wishes  and  expectations  are  de- 
pendent on  the  smiles  and  the  sunshine  of  royal  favour; 
and  the  prince,  who  looks  for  constant  enjoyment  in 
the  possession  of  popularity  and  public  applause,  both 
trust  to  what  is  proverbially  capricious  and  insecure. 
*'  Trust  not  in  man,  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils  ; 
for  wherein  is  he  to  be  accounted  of?" — Let  not  the 
venerable  monarch  of  these  realms,  our  good  old  king, 
be  the  victim  of  such  popular  caprice.  Let  him  enjoy, 
to  the  close  of  his  days,  the  satisfaction  imparted  by 
the  attachment  of  a  loyal  people.  Let  not  his  grey  hairs 
be  despised ;  let  not  our  sympathy  be  refused  to  his 
infirmities  and  sufferings  ;  let  not  the  respect  be  for- 
gotten that  is  due  to  the  declining  sun.f    And,  whilst 

♦  Eph.  iv.  1—3.  Pliil.  i.  17.  Heb.  x.  23—25.  2  Cor.xiii.  11.  Psal,  cxxxiii.  1,  3, 
\  The  reader  requires  to  be  again  reminded  of  the  time  when  these  Lectures 
were  delivered.   References  of  this  kind  to  our  late  reverend  Monarch  I  could 
not  find  in  mv  heart  to  erase. 


178  LECTURE  Vir.    ECCLES.  IV.  4 16. 

we  set  an  example  of  steadfast  loyalty  to  our  earthly 
monarch,  let  us,  above  all,  adhere,  with  undeclining 
attachment,  to  the  cause  and  service  and  glory  of  the 
"  King  of  kings,"  who  fills  the  throne  and  sways  the 
sceptre  of  an  eternal  dominion ;  who  can  never  give 
place  to  a  successor ;  and  who  is  supremely  entitled 
to  the  growing  admiration  and  the  everlasting  attach- 
ment of  all  his  subjects. — In  his  immutable  favour,  too, 
let  us  seek  our  enjoyment.  It  is  the  only  enduring  hap- 
piness ;  springing  from  the  only  source  that  is  unsus- 
ceptible of  change.  In  his  smile,  there  lurks  no  deceit ; 
in  his  assurances  of  regard,  there  is  no  duplicity  or 
simulation;  "  his  gifts  and  calling  are  without  repen- 
tance ;"  and  in  his  Royal  clemency  and  paternal  love, 
there  is  the  fulness  of  eternal  joy.  *'  Whom  have  I  in 
heaven  (but  thee?)  and  there  (is)  none  upon  earth  whom 
I  desire  in  preference  to  thee.  My  flesh  and  my  heart 
faileth  ;  (but)  God  (is)  the  strength  of  my  heart,  and 
my  portion  forever."  "(There  be)  many  that  say,  Who 
will  show  us  any  good?  Lord,  lift  thou  up  the  light  of 
thy  countenance  upon  us  :  thou  hast  put  gladness  in  my 
heart,  more  than  ia  the  time  (that)  their  corn  and  their 
wine  increased."* 

*  Psal.lxxUi,  25,  26.  Ibid,  iv,  6, 7. 


LECTURE  VIII. 


ECCLES.  V.  1 — 7. 

1  "  Kcefi  thy  foot  ivhen  thou  goest  to  the  house  of  God,  and  be  mor: 
ready  to  hear  than  to  give  the  sacrifice  of  fools :  for  they  cojisider 

2  not  that  they  do  evil.  Be  not  rash  with  thy  mouthy  and  let  not  thine 
heart  be  hasty  to  utter  (any J  thing  before  God :  for  God  fi^J  in 

3  heaven,  and  thou  ufio7t  earth;  therefore  let  thy  words  be  few.  For 
a  dream  cometh  through  the  multitude  of  business  ;  and  a  fool's 

4  voice  (is  known  J  by  multitude  of  words.  When  thou  vowestavotu 
unto  God,  defer  not  to  fiay  it :  for  (he  halh)  no  pleasure  in  fools : 

5  fiay  that  which  thou  hast  vowed.  Better  (is  it  J  that  thou  shouldest 

6  not  vow,  than  that  thou  shouldest  vow  and  not  fiay.  Suffer  not  thy 
mouth  to  cause  thy  flesh  to  sin  ;  neither  say  thou  before  the  angel, 
that  it  (was J  an  error :  wherefore  should  God  be  angry  at  thy 

7  voice,  and  destroy  the  work  of  thine  hands  ?  For  in  the  multitude  of 
dreams  and  many  words  (there  are)  also  ( divers  J  vanities :  but 

fear  thou  God" 


Amidst  the  lessons  which  God  teaches  us,  both  by 
his  word  and  by  his  providence,  of  the  vanity  of  human 
life,  and  its  diversified  pursuits  and  enjoyments,  and 
amidst  the  melancholy  experience,  prevailing  around 
us  and  reaching  ourselves,  of  the  insufficiency  of  learn- 
ing, riches,  pleasure,  power,  and  honour,  to  confer  un- 
mingled  and  permanent  happiness,  true  religion 
is  the  only  effectual  supporter  of  the  mind.  It  alone  is 
exempt  from  the  general  verdict,  "  All  is  vanity;"  a 
verdict  comprehending  whatever  pertains  to  this  world 
and  to  time.  But  religion  is  not  of  this  world,  nor  does 
time  limit  the  enjoyment  of  its  blessings.  It  is  of  celes- 
tial origin,  and  possesses  a  kindred  immortality  with  the 
Being  who  is  the  object  of  its  regards.  It  affords  to  man 
genuine  and  substantial  happiness,  both  in  possession 


180  LECTURE  VIII. 

and  in  hope.  It  alone  imparts  the  true  relish  of  the  bles- 
sings of  life,  and  it  alone  can  lighten  its  burdens,  and 
mitigate  its  woes.  Intercourse  with  God  strengthens 
against  the  temptations,  and  supports  under  the  trials, 
that  arise  from  intercourse  with  men.  The  very  thought 
of  his  favour,  which  is  ^'  better  than  life,"  makes  every 
thing  else,  by  comparison,  appear  in  its  proper  light, 
and  thus  prevents  us  from  being,  either  unduly  elevated, 
or  excessively  depressed,  by  the  vicissitudes  of  time  ; 
teaching  us  to  be,  *'  when  we  rejoice  as  though  we  re- 
joiced not,  and  when  we  weep  as  though  we  wept  not, 
and  when  we  buy  as  though  we  possessed  not,  and 
when  we  use  this  world  as  not  abusing  (it;)  because 
the  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away."*^ 

The  ordinances  of  the  House  of  God,  the  sacred  ex- 
ercises of  social  worship,  have  ever  been  the  delight  of 
the  true  Israel ;  attendance  on  them  infusing  vigour 
and  animation  into  their  souls  ;  and  the  privation  of 
them  depressing  their  minds,  enfeebling  all  their  spiri- 
tual efforts,  extracting  their  sweetness  from  all  earthly 
enjoyments,  and  exciting  the  most  vehement  and  long- 
ing desires  for  their  restoration.  *'  How  amiable  (are) 
thy  tabernacles,  O  Lord  of  hosts  !  My  soul  longeth, 
yea,  even  fainteth  for  the  courts  of  the  Lord  ;  my  heart 
and  my  flesh  crieth  out  for  the  living  God.  Blessed 
(are)  they  that  dwell  in  thy  house ;  they  will  be  still 
praising  thee  :" — ^'  O  God,  thou  (art)  my  God  ;  early 
will  I  seek  thee  :  my  soul  thirsteth  for  thee  ;  my  flesh 
longeth  for  thee,  in  a  dry  and  thirsty  land,  nl.ere  no 
water  is ;  to  see  thy  power  and  thy  glory,  so  (as)  I 
have  seen  thee  in  the  sanctuary  :"— <'  As  the  hart  pant- 
eth  after  the  water  brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul  after 
thee,  O  God.  My  soul  thirsteth  for  God,  for  the  living 

*  1  Cor.  vii.  29— 3  L 


ECCLES.  V.   1 7.  181 

God ;  when  shall  I  come,  and  appear  before  God  ?— 
For  I  had  gone  with  the  multitude ;  I  went  with  them 
to  the  House  of  God  with  the  voice  of  joy  and  praise, 
with  the  multitude  that  kept  holy  day  :"—"  I  was  glad 
when  they  said  nnto  me,  Let  us  go  into  the  house  of 
the  Lord."* 

Such,  however,  is  the  insinuating  influence  of  the 
vanities  of  life,  and  of  the  things  of  time  and  sense  in 
general,  that  we  are  in  constant  danger  of  allowing  our 
thoughts  about  them  to  intrude  on  our  religious  exer- 
cises, and  to  mingle  with  the  most  sacred  feelings  of 
devotion  ;  nay  sometimes,  (such  is  their  power  over  our 
hearts,)  of  performing  our  acts  of  worship  in  a  light, 
inconsiderate,  and  merely  external  manner,  "  drawing 
nigh  to  God  with  our  lips,  and  honouring  him  with  our 
mouths,  whilst  our  hearts  are  far  from  him."  In  this 
way,  in  proportion  as  our  minds  are  thus  roving  and 
divided  and  pre-occupied,  we  turn  our  religion  itself 
to  vanity.  It  becomes  absolutely  worthless  ;  an  insult 
to  God,  and  profitless  to  ourselves.  It  loses  at  once  its 
nature  5.nd  its  influence. — Such  being  the  powerful  ten- 
dency of  the  vanities  of  the  world,  Solomon  addresses 
a  special  warning  against  it. 

Verse  1.  ^'  Keep  thy  foot  when  thou  goest  to  the 
house  of  God,  and  be  more  ready  to  hear,  than  to  give 
the  sacrifice  of  fools ;  for  they  consider  not  that  they  do 
evil." 

The  "  House  of  God"  was  the  Temple,  which  So. 
lomon  himself  had  built  for  the  residence  and  worship 
of  the  God  of  Israel.  But  the  admonition  applies,  in 
the  full  spirit  of  it,  to  Christian  as  well  as  to  Jewish 
worship,— to  the  service  of  God  under  every  dispensa- 
tion of  religion. 

*  Pial,  Ixxxiv.  1—4.  Ixiii.  1,  2.  s^ii.  1— 4.  cxxii.  I, 


18^  LECTURE  Vlir. 

"  Keep  thy  foot  :"~that  is,  Go  not  with  rash  and 
harsty  step,  indicating  light  and  inconsiderate  thought- 
lessness.  Think  of  the  nature  of  the  place  ;  and  think 
of  the  purpose  for  which  you  go  thither.  The  place  is 
"  the  house  of  God  ;"  the  chosen  residence  of  Jehovah; 
where  He  whom  *'  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  con- 
tain," "  in  very  deed  dwells  with  man  upon  earth ;" 
where  he  hath  <*  put  his  Name,"  and  manifested  his 
glory  :— and  you  go  thither,  to  engage  in  the  worship 
of  this  God,  the  living  God,  "  the  high  and  lofty  One 
who  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name  is  Holy."  Go 
thither,  therefore,  with  serious  reflection.  Remember 
how  the  God  whom  you  are  about  to  worship  said,  on 
different  occasions,  when  he  appeared  to  his  most  fa- 
voured servants,  "  Put  off  thy  shoe  from  thy  foot,  for 
the  place  where  thou  standest  is  holy  ground  :"  and  let 
your  spirits,  in  all  your  approaches  to  him,  be  under 
the  influence  of  "  reverence  and  godly  fear." 

''  And  be  more  ready  to  hear,  than  to  offer  the  sa- 
orifice  of  fools."—  The  ^*  sacrifice  of  fools"  means,  I 
think,  the  sacrifice  that  is  offered  without  the  heart ;  in 
presenting  which,  the  external  service  is  performed,  and 
performed,  it  may  be,  with  a  scrupulous  adherence  to 
the  prescribed  ritual,  but  without  the  devotion  of  "  the 
inner  man,"  without  spiritual  homage,  without  a  sen- 
timent of  piety.  This  is  a  fool's  offering  ;  because  there 
cannot  be  greater  folly  than  to  imagine  the  searcher  of 
hearts  to  be  pleased  with  it.  How  strong  are  the  testi- 
monies to  the  contrary,  addressed  by  his  prophets  to 
his  ancient  people,  who  ^'  made  their  boast  of  the  law, 
whilst  through  breaking  it  they  dishonoured  God."— 
"  To  what  purpose  (is)  the  multitude  of  your  sacri- 
fices unto  me  ?  saidi  the  Lord  :  I  am  full  of  the  burnt- 
offerings  of  rams,  and  the  fat  of  fed  beasts,  and  I  delight 


ECCLES.  V.   1 7.  i83 

not  In  the  blood  of  bullocks,  or  of  lambs,  or  of  he-goats. 
When  ye  come  to  appear  before  me,  who  hath  required 
this  at  your  hand,  to  tread  my  courts  ?  Bring  no  more 
vain  oblations  :  incense  is  an  abomination  unto  me  ; 
the  new-moons  and  sabbaths,  the  calling  of  assemblies, 
I  cannot  away  with  :  (it  is)  iniquity,  even  the  solemn 
meeting.  Your  new-moons  and  your  appointed  feasts, 
my  soul  hateth  ;  they  are  a  trouble  unto  me ;  I  am  weary 
to  bear  (them.)  And  when  ye  spread  forth  your  hands, 
I  will  hide  mine  eyes  from  you  ;  yea,  when  ye  make 
many  prayers,  I  will  not  hear  :  your  hands  are  full  of 
blood." — Such  services  were  not  only  worthless  and 
unacceptable ;  they  were  hateful  to  God He  repre- 
sents himself  as  holding  them  in  abhorrence,  as  much 
as  he  did  the  blood  of  an  unclean  victim,  or  even  of  a 
human  sacrifice.  Such  seems  to  be  the  spirit  of  the  fol- 
lowing verses  :— "  He  that  killeth  an  ox,  (is  as  if)  he 
slew  a  man ;  he  that  sacrificeth  a  lamb,  (as  if)  he  cut 
off  a  dog's  neck  ;  he  that  offereth  an  oblation,  as  (if  he 
offered)  swine's  blood  ;  he  that  burneth  incense,  (as  if) 
he  blessed  an  idol :  yea,  they  have  chosen  their  own 
ways,  and  their  soul  delighteth  in  their  abominations. 
I  also  will  choose  their  delusions,  and  will  bring  their 
fears  upon  them  ;  because  when  I  called  none  did  an- 
swer ;  when  I  spoke  they  did  not  hear  ;  but  they  did 
evil  before  mine  eyes,  and  chose  (that)  in  which  I 
delighted  not." — These  are  expanded  statements  of  the 
sentiment  more  briefly  expressed  in  the  Book  of  Pro- 
verbs, '^  The  sacrifice  of  the  Vv'icked  (is)  an  abomina- 
tion to  the  Lord :"  to  which,  on  one  occasion,  it  is 
added,  "  How  much  more  (when)  he  doeth  it  with  a 
wicked  mind !" — that  is,  when  not  only  his  general 
character  is  ungodly,  but  there  is  some  special  evil  pur- 
pose cloaked  under  the  particular  act  of  hypocritical 
devotion. 


184?  LECTURE  Vlir. 

"  Be  more  ready  to  hear"  than  to  offer  a  heartless 
and  detested  sacrifice  :— to  hear,  with  a  sincere  and  earn- 
est desire  to  know  and  to  obey  the  will  of  God.  Men 
may  hear,  and  even  profess  a  willingness  to  hear,  when 
there  is  no  disposition  to  obey.  The  character  of  the 
Jews  in  Ezekiel's  time  is  one,  alas  !  of  no  very  rare 
occurrence  :  "  Also,  thou  Son  of  man,  the  children  of 
thy  people  still  are  talking  concerning  thee,  by  the  walls, 
and  in  the  doors  of  the  houses,  and  speak  one  to  another, 
every  man  to  his  brother,  saying.  Come,  I  pray  you, 
and  hear  what  is  the  word  that  cometh  forth  from  the 
Lord.  And  they  come  unto  thee  as  the  people  cometh  , 
and  they  sit  before  thee  (as)  my  people  ;  and  they  hear 
thy  words,  but  they  will  not  do  them :  for  with  their 
mouth  they  show  much  love,  (but)  their  heart  goeth 
after  its  covetousness :  and  lo,  thou  (art)  unto  them  as 
a  very  lovely  song  of  one  that  hath  a  pleasant  voice 
and  can  play  well  on  an  instrument ;  for  they  hear  thy 
words,  but  they  do  them  not."*— But  in  the  passage 
before  us,  and  in  many  others,  hearing  is  equivalent  to 
obeying.  Thus,  when  Samuel  says  to  Saul,  in  the  full 
spirit  of  the  sentiment  we  are  considering;  *^  Hath  the 
Lord  (as  great)  delight  in  burnt-offerings  and  sacrifices, 
as  in  obeying  the  voice  of  the  Lord  ?  Behold  to  obey 
(is)  better  than  sacrifice,  (and)  to  hearken  than  the  fat 
of  rams;"~^d'cr^<?/2m^  means  the  same  thing  as  obey- 
ing ;  and  the  quotations  formerly  introduced,  to  show 
the  meaning  of  the  "  sacrifice  of  fools,"  might  here  be 
cited  anew. 

'*  For  they  consider  not  that  they  do  evil."— There 
cannot  be  more  obvious  evil,  than  to  come  before  God 
in  acts  of  solemn  worship,  with  no  affection  of  the  heart 
in  exercise,  or  with  a  heart  still  estranged  and  at  enmity, 

*  Ezek.  xxxiii.  30—52, 


ECCLES.  V.  1 — 7.  185 

And  yet,  as  **  the  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things," 
men  may  even  so  far  impose  upon  themselves,  as  to 
fancy  they  are  doing  what  He  will  be  pleased  with  and 
accept,  when  they  offer  this  soul-less  homage,  this  un- 
hallowed and  odious  service.  Thus  it  was  with  mul- 
titudes of  the  ancient  Israelites.  Regardless  alike  of  the 
spiritual  meaning  and  the  spiritual  performance  of  their 
acts  and  offerings,  they  vainly  imagined  that  all  was 
well,  if  blood  were  duly  shed,  if  ablutions  were  regu- 
larly made,  if  tithes  were  sacredly  paid,  and  incense 
fumed  on  the  censer  at  the  appointed  seasons.  It  is  on 
the  foolishness  of  such  an  imagination  that  Jehovah  thus 
indignantly  expostulates  with  them  :  *'  Hear,  O  my  peo- 
ple, and  I  will  speak  :  O  Israel,  and  I  will  testify  against 
thee  ;  I  (am)  God,  (even)  thy  God.  I  will  not  reprove 
thee  for  thy  sacrifices,  or  thy  burnt- offerings,  (to  have 
been)  continually  before  me.  I  will  take  no  bullock  out 
of  thy  house,  (nor)  he-goats  out  of  thy  folds  ;  for  every 
beast  of  the  forest  (is)  mine,  (and)  the  cattle  upon  a 
thousand  hills.  I  know  all  the  fowls  of  the  mountains; 
and  the  wild  beasts  of  the  field  (are)  mine.  If  I  were 
hungry,  I  would  not  tell  thee :  for  the  world  (is)  mine, 
and  the  fulness  thereof.  Will  I  eat  the  flesh  of  bulls, 
or  drink  the  blood  of  goats  ?  Offer  unto  God  thanks- 
giving ;  and  pay  thy  vows  unto  the  most  High :  and 
call  upon  me  in  the  day  of  trouble  ;  I  will  deliver  thee, 
and  thou  shalt  glorify  me.  But  unto  the  wicked  God 
saith.  What  hast  thou  to  do  to  declare  my  statutes,  or 
(that)  thou  shouldest  take  my  covenant  in  thy  mouth  ? 
Seeing  thou  hatest  instruction,  and  castest  my  words 
behind  thee."* 

Let  us  not  forget,  my  brethren,  that  the  same  general 
sentiments  are  perfectly  applicable  to  the  services  of 

*  Psal  1.  7—17. 

Aa 


186  liECTURU   VIII. 

New  Testament  worship.  We  too  have  acts  of  outward 
devotion  to  perform,  and  we  too  are  in  danger  of  satisfy, 
ing  ourselves  with  the  outward  performance  of  them. 
But  the  mere  utterance  of  the  words  of  praise  and 
prayer,  the  mere  ceremony  of  sprinkling  with  or  im- 
mersing in  water,  the  mere  participation  of  the  symbols 
of  bread  and  wine,  is  just  as  worthless,  without  the  ac- 
companying homage  of  the  heart,  as  any  observance  of 
the  Mosaic  Ceremonial.  The  "  calves  of  the  lips"  are 
in  themselves  no  better  than  the  "  calves  of  the  stall." 
They  are  both  alike  the  '^  sacrifice  of  fools." 

If  we  consider  with  becoming  seriousness  what  we 
are  doing  when  we  go  to  the  House  of  God,  we  shall 
thereby  be  led  to  fulfil  the  admonition  in  the  second 
verse  :  "  Be  not  rash  with  thy  mouth,  and  let  not  thy 
heart  be  hasty  to  utter  (any)  thing  before  God ;  for  God 
(is)  in  heaven,  and  thou  upon  earth  :  therefore  let  thy 
words  be  few." 

Of  all  that  we  utter  in  our  addresses  to  God,  we 
should  maturely  weigh  the  meaning.  All  should  be  the 
deliberate  dictate  of  a  reflecting  mind,  and  of  an  im- 
pressed and  feeling  heart.  We  must  take  heed,  that  we 
do  not 

"  Mock  him  with  a  solemn  sound 

Upon  a  thoughtless  tongue." 

We  must  beware  of  this  in  every  part  of  our  addresses 
to  him : — in  the  appellations  of  adoring  reverence  with 
which  we  approach  his  presence  ; — for  these  should  be 
dictated  by  deep,  humble,  godly  fear  :— in  our  confes- 
sions of  sin,  and  guilt,  and  unvvorthiness  ;  for  these 
must  not  "  come  out  of  feigned  lips,"  but  must  ex- 
press a  real  heart-felt  sense  of  what  we  are,  and  of  what 
we  deserve  :■— in  our  supplications  and  cries  for  mercy  ; 
for  these  must  spring  from  an  abasing  conviction  of 


Ecci*Bs.  V.  1 — 7.  187 

our  need  of  mercy  in  all  its  freedom  and  in  all  its  rich- 
ness, and  of  the  impossibility  of  our  being  justified  in 
God's  sight,  if  he  should  enter  with  us  into  judgment : 
— in  our  expressions  of  gratitude  for  the  gifts  of  Divine 
goodness  ;  for  in  these  *'  our  souls  and  all  that  is  with- 
in us  must  bless  his  holy  Name:" — in  our  petitions 
for  spiritual  blessings ;  for  in  presenting  these,  our  hearts 
should  be  enlarged  with  fervent  desires  after  them,  from 
an  experimental  feeling  of  their  incomparable  precious- 
ness: — and  in  our  professed  resolutions  to  "  cleave  to 
the  Lord  ;"  for  these  must  be  uttered,  else  they  are 
hypocritical  mockery,  *'  with  purpose  of  heart."— 
There  appears  to  be,  in  the  admonition,  a  special  re- 
ference to  the  making  and  uttering  of  rash  and  incon- 
siderate vows  ;  a  subject  enlarged  upon  in  the  follow- 
ing verses.  But  it  applies,  with  perfect  propriety,  and 
in  all  its  energy,  to  every  description  of  religious  ser- 
vice. The  consideration  by  which  the  admonition  is 
enforced,  is,  in  the  same  way,  one  of  universal  applica- 
tion :  "  For  God  is  in  heaven,  and  thou  upon  earth; 
therefore  let  thy  words  be  few." 

This  clause  of  the  verse  expresses  the  distance  be- 
tween God  and  his  creatures,  and  the  consequent  vene- 
ration and  sacred  awe  which  they  ought  to  feel  and  to 
manifest  in  all  their  intercourse  with  him  ;  not  address- 
ing him  with  a  profusion  of  unpondered  and  heartless 
words,  but  with  the  lowly  and  unobtrusive  devotion  of 
the  whole  soul. — "  God  is  in  heaven."  The  expression 
may  be  understood  as  including  his  uncontrolled  supre- 
macy, his  omniscient  observation,  and  his  moral  purity. 
His  supremacy ; — *'  The  Lord  hath  erected  his  throne 
in  the  heavens ;  and  his  kingdom  ruleth  over  all." 
''  Our  God  (is)  in  the  heavens :  he  hath  done  what- 
soever  he   hath  pleased."— -His  ommscience ;    "The 


18S  LECTURE    Tin. 

Lord  (is)  in  his  holy  temple ;  the  Lord's  throne  (is) 
in  .heaven  :  his  eyes  behold,  his  eye-lids  try,  the  chil- 
dren of  men  :"  "  The  Lord  looketh  from  heaven  ;  he 
beholdeth  all  the  sons  of  men :  from  the  place  of  his 
habitation  he  looketh  upon  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth." — W\s  purity  ;  "  Thus  saith  the  high  and  lofty 
One  who  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name  (is)  Holy, 
who  dwelleth  in  the  high  and  holy  place."* — Under 
the  impression,  then,  of  sacred  dread  of  his  majesty, 
and  holiness,  and  universal  and  unceasing  observation 
of  all  things,  "  let  thy  words  be  few."  This  corres- 
ponds with  the  expressions  in  the  beginning  of  the  verse, 
as  their  evident  counterpart.  Tht  fewness  of  words  is 
meant  to  imply  their  being  well  weighed  and  well  or- 
dered, in  opposition  to  their  being  poured  out  with 
hasty  thoughtlessness.  And  this  is  the  natural  effect  of 
reverence,  which  always  restrains  rash  and  inconsiderate 
utterance  in  the  presence  of  its  object.  Not  that  all 
copiousness,  and  all  repetition  in  prayer  are  by  this 
admonition  condemned.  As  to  copiousness,  much  de- 
pends on  the  number  and  extent  of  the  topics  of  sup- 
plication, and  on  the  state  of  the  suppliant's  mind  :— 
and  as  to  repetition,  it  may  be  so  far  from  an  impro- 
priety, as  to  be  an  expression  at  once  of  strength  of 
faith,  and  fervour  of  desire.  Of  copiousness,  we  have 
examples  in  the  prayers  of  Solomon,  of  Nehemiah,  and 
of  Daniel ;  and  of  repetition,  in  those  of  Paul,  and  of 
the  blessed  Jesus  himself,  who,  when  "  in  the  days  of 
his  flesh  he  oflered  up  prayers  and  supplications,  with 
strong  crying  and  tears,  to  him  who  was  able  to  save 
him  from  death,"  thrice  repeated,  in  the  anguish  of  his 
spirit,  the  same  petition,  in  the  same  words.  He  en- 
couraged  importunity  too  in  his  disciples,  (and  impor^ 

*  rial.  ciii.  19.  cxv.  3.  xi.  4.  xxxiii.  13,  15.    Isa.  Ivii.  35. 


ECCLES.  V.   1 7.  189 

tunity  necessarily  implies  repetition,)  by  recommending 
the  example  of  the  woman  of  Canaan,  as  an  evidence 
of  strong  faith ;  and  by  delivering  the  parable  of  the 
poor  widow  and  the  unjust  judge,  for  the  very  purpose 
of  inculcating,  the  lesson,  that  "  they  ought  always  to 
pray,  and  not  to  faint."* — What  is  forbidden  is,  the 
unmeaning  profusion  of  words,  the  product  of  a  light 
and  unimpressed  mind ;  and  what  Jesus  himself  deno- 
minates "  vain  repetitions,"  such  as  '"  the  Heathen  use, 
when  they  think  they  are  to  be  heard  for  their  much 
speaking;"  of  which  we  have  a  fine  exemplification  in 
Scripture  history,  in  the  frantic  orgies  of  the  worship, 
pers  of  Baal,  when  they  '*  called  on  the  name  of  their 
god  from  morning  until  noon,  saying,  O  Baal  hear  us;" 
and,  being  stimulated  by  the  keen  irony  of  the  venera- 
ble Elijah,  continued  their  unavailing  cries  ^'  till  the 
time  of  the  evening  sacrifice."! — Thus  there  appears 
a  perfect  and  instructive  harmony  between  the  directions 
of  the  Old  Testament  and  those  of  the  New,  as  to  the 
spirit  and  manner  of  the  worship  of  God.  What  a  beau- 
tiful illustration  of  his  own  precept,  as  Well  as  of  the 
cautions  and  injunctions  of  Solomon  in  the  passage  be- 
fore us,  is  the  prayer  which  Christ  taught  his  disciples : 
— "  After  this  manner  therefore  pray  ye :  Our  Father 
who  art  in  heaven,  Hallowed  be  thy  name.  Thy  king- 
dom come.  Thy  will  be  done  in  earth,  as  (it  is)  in  hea- 
ven. Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread.  And  forgive 
us  our  debts,  as  we  forgive  our  debtorj*.  And  lead  us 
not  into  temptation ;  but  deliver  us  from  evil :  For 
thine  is  the  kingdom,  and  the  power,  and  the  glory, 
for  ever.  Amen."f 

*  See  1  Kings  viii.    Neh.  ix.  3.   Dan.  ix.  2  Cor.  xii.  8.   Matt.  xxvi.  44.  xv, 
21—28.   Luke  xviii.  1—7. 
t  1  Kings  xviii.  26—29.  t  Matt.  vl.  9—13. 


190  LECTURE  VIII. 

Verse  3.  "  For  a  dream  cometh  through  the  multi- 
tude of  business ;  and  a  fool's  voice  (is  known)  by  the 
multitude  of  words." 

There  is  a  comparison,  I  apprehend,  intended  in  this 
verse:— "For  as  a  dream  cometh  through  the  multi- 
tude of  business ;  so  a  fool's  voice  (is  known)  by  the 
multitude  of  words."— When  a  man  has  been  occupied 
with  a  great  variety  of  cares  and  businesses  during  the 
day,  the  consequence  very  often  is  confused  and  inco- 
herent dreams  by  night,  in  which  there  is  neither  dis- 
tinct beginning,  nor  order,  nor  end.  As  the  nature  of 
a  man's  dreams,  then,  indicates  the  nature  and  variety 
of  his  daily  employments  and  solicitudes;  so  the  voice 
of  a  worshipper  may  be  known  to  be  a  fool's  voice,  and 
his  mind  consequently  a  fool's  mind,  by  "  the  multi- 
tude  of  words."  He  talks  volubly,  incoherently,  loud, 
and  long  ;  his  mind  evidently  not  deeply  if  at  all  en- 
gaged, but  light,  and  frivolous,  and  confused ;— tongue 
without  understanding ;  language  without  feeling ;  the 
unconnected  utterance  of  unconnected  thoughts;  the 
*'  swelling  words  of  vanity  ;"  the  inane  expression  of 
inward  vacancy  and  heedless  presumption.  Such  wordy 
and  frothy  addresses  to  God  manifest  the  mind  of  a  fool, 
and  from  the  mind  of  a  fool  we  should  expect  them,  as 
we  expect  the  dream  of  the  night  to  correspond  with 
the  multitudinous  businesses  of  the  day. 

Although  this  and  the  preceding  verses  may  with 
propriety  be  applied,  in  the  general  spirit  of  them,  to  all 
descriptions  of  worship ;  those  which  follow,  as  they 
are  evidently  a  continuation  of  the  same  subject,  show 
the  principal  reference,  throughout  the  passage,  to  be 
to  rash  vows:— \crsQs  4,  5.  "When  thou  vowest  a 
vow  unto  God,  defer  not  to  pay  it;  for  (he  hath)  no 
pleasure  in  fools :   pay  that  which  thou  hast  vowedc 


ECCLES.  V.   1 1.  191 

Better  (is  it)  that  thou  shouldest  not  vow,  than  that 
thou  shouldest  vow  and  not  pay." 

A  vow  was  a  solemn  promise  or  engagement,  volun- 
tarily come  under  to  God,  (usually  accompanied  with 
an  oath  or  imprecation,  either  formally  expressed,  or 
tacitly  understood,)  of  some  sacrifice  to  be  offered, 
some  portion  of  worldly  substance  to  be  devoted,  or 
some  other  service  to  be  performed. — Such  vows  it  was 
the  duty  of  him  who  made  them,  conscientiously, 
promptly,  and  cheerfully  to  fulfil :— ''  Pay  that  which 
thou  hast  vowed,"  and  "  defer  not  to  pay  it."—-"  If  a 
man  vow  a  vow  unto  the  Lord,  or  swear  an  oath  to 
bind  his  soul  with  a  bond;  he  shall  not  break  his  word, 
he  shall  do  according  to  all  that  proceedeth  out  of  his 
mouth :"  "  When  thou  shalt  vow  a  vow  unto  the  Lord 
thy  God,  thou  shalt  not  slack  to  pay  it ;  for  the  Lord 
thy  God  will  surely  require  it  of  thee,  and  it  would  be 
sin  unto  thee.  But  if  thou  shalt  forbear  to  vow,  it  shall 
be  no  sin  unto  thee.  That  which  is  gone  out  of  thy  lips 
thou  shalt  keep  and  perform ;  (even)  a  free-will  offering, 
according  as  thou  hast  vowed  unto  the  Lord  thy  God, 
which  thou  hast  promised  with  thy  mouth."  "Vow, 
and  pay,  unto  the  Lord  your  God."* 

The  expression,  "  Defer  not  to  pay  it,"  signifies  not 
merely,  be  sure  to  pay  it ;  but  pay  it  with  promptitude 
and  cheerfulness,  indicated  by  punctuality. — *'  For  he 
hath  no  pleasure  in  fools."  A  fool's  vow  is  much  the 
same  as  a  ioaW  prayer ;  a  vow  formed  in  the  mind  and 
uttered  by  the  lips,  rashly,  without  consideration,  with- 
out the  heart,  without  a  serious  resolution,  or  an  honest 
and  deliberate  purpose,  to  fulfil  it.  The  God  to  whom 
the  vow  is  made  cannot  be  deceived ;  and  he  condemns 
the  levity,  and  detests  the  deceitfulness,  of  heart,  by 

*  Xiimb,  XXX.  2,    Dcut,  xxiii.  31—23.    Psal.  Ixxvi.  11, 


19a  LECTURE  nil. 

which  the  vow  of  a  fool  is  dictated.  He  will  not  be 
mocked  ;  nor  will  he  deign  to  accept  the  person  or  the 
worship  of  the  man  who  thus  plays  the  hypocrite  ;  who 
thus  takes  back  his  word,  uttered  to  the  God  of  truth, 
and  insults  and  provokes  the  Majesty  of  heaven.  The 
mode  of  expression  may  be  illustrated  from  the  striking 
language  of  Jehovah  to  Israel,  by  the  prophet  Malachi : 

*'  A  son  honoureth  (his)  father,  and  a  servant  his 

master :  if  I  then  (be)  a  father,  where  (is)  my  honour? 
and  if  I  (be)  a  master,  where  (is)  my  fear?  saith  the 
Lord  of  hosts,  unto  you,  O  priests,  that  despise  my 
name.  And  ye  say,  Wherein  have  we  despised  thy 
name  ?  Ye  offer  polluted  bread  upon  mine  altar  :  and 
ye  say,  Wherein  have  we  polluted  thee  ?  In  that  ye 
say,  the  table  of  the  Lord  (is)  contemptible.  And  if  ye 
offer  the  blind  for  sacrifice,  (is  it)  not  evil  ?  and  if  ye 
offer  the  lame  and  sick,  (is  it)  not  evil  ?  Offer  it  now 
to  thy  governor  :  will  he  be  pleased  with  thee,  or  accept 
thine  offering? — And  ye  brought  (that  which  was)  torn^ 
and  the  lame,  and  the  sick :  thus  ye  brought  an  offering : 
should  I  be  pleased  with  you,  or  accept  this  of  your 
hand?  saith  the  Lord.  But  cursed  (be)  the  deceiver, 
that  hath  in  his  flock  a  male,  and  voweth,  and  sacri- 
ficeth  unto  the  Lord  a  corrupt  thing :  for  I  (am)  a  great 
King,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  and  my  name  (is)  dread- 
ful among  the  Heathen."* — As  God  is  displeased  with 
the  deceiver  who  thus,  repenting  of  his  vow,  and 
grudging  the  payment  of  it,  puts  off  the  God  of  heaven 
with  a  corrupt  and  worthless  offering :  so  is  he  dis- 
pleased with  the  man  who  draws  back  altogether,  who 
pays  not  what  he  has  vowed  at  all. 

*' Pay,"  then,  "that  which  thou  hast  vowed ;"  for 
'  Better  is  it  that  thou  shouldest  not  vow,  than  that 

*  Mai.  i.  6— 8,  13,14. 


ECCLES.  V.   1 7.  193 

ihou  shouldcst  vow,  and  not  pay." — Vows  were  volun- 
tary ;  and,  as  is  plainly  intimated  in  one  of  the  passages 
quoted  from  the  Old  Testament,  sin  was  not  contracted 
by  refraining  to  vow,  but  only  by  the  non-performance 
of  vows  when  they  had  been  made. — It  is  taken  for 
granted,  that  vows  which  are  binding,  and  which  it  is 
a  man's  duty  to  fulfil,  must,  in  their  subject,  or  in  that 
to  which  he  obliges  himself,  be  consistent  with  the  mo- 
ral obligations  of  the  Divine  law.  No  vow  could  ren- 
der that  a  duty,  which  was  in  its  nature  morally  wrong, 
or  which  involved,  in  the  performance  of  it,  a  violation 
of  any  express  precept  or  ordinance  of  God.  To  vow 
to  the  Lord  what  was  contrary  to  his  will,  could  never 
bring  a  man  under  obligation  to  fulfilment ;  else  his 
vow  would  have  obliged  him  to  sin.  When  any  thing 
vowed  was  subsequently  discovered  to  be  contrary  to 
the  will  of  God,  it  must  have  ceased  to  bind  the  soul : 
and  the  vow  itself  required  to  be  repented  of,  as  one 
that  had  been  made  in  inconsideration  and  without 
knowledge,  and  might  perhaps  be  classed  with  those 
sins  of  ignorance,  for  which  appropriate  atonements 
were  appointed. — *'  It  is  a  snare,  to  the  man,"  says  So- 
lomon elsewhere,*  *'  who  devoureth  that  which  is  holy, 
and  after  vows  to  make  inquiry."  "That  which  is 
holy,"  probably  means  that  which  by  his  vow  has  be- 
come holy,  having  been  consecrated  or  devoted  to  God 
and  to  holy  uses.  He  who  "  devoureth"  this  part  of  his 
substance,  and  "  after  vows  makes  inquiry,"  with  the 
view,  as  is  evidently  meant,  of  eluding  performance, 
and,  on  some  plausible  pretext,  retaining  his  devoted 
property,  the  bullock  of  his  herd,  or  the  Iamb  of  his 
fold,  or  the  fruits  of  his  ground,  or  whatever  else  it 
might  be,  for  his  own  use ;— that  man  is  ensnared  by 

♦  Prov.  XX.  25. 

B  b 


194  1.ECTUIIE  viir. 

temptation,~the  temptation  of  selfibh  and  covetous- im- 
piety,—and  sins  against  God.  The  "iniquiry"  and  de- 
liberation, both  as  to  the  propriety  of  the  vow  itself, 
and  tiie  disposition  and  ability  to  fulfil  it,  ought  to  have 
preceded  and  not  io  follow  the  making  of  it.  But  if  the 
matter  of  the  vow  was  ffiorally  wrong,  it  could  not  by 
the  vow  be  rendered  right.  It  could  never  be  right  to 
do  what  it  was  morally  wrong  to  vow  to  do. 

By  making  vows  rashly,  men  entered  into  temptation 
to  this  sin  of  "  making  inquiry."  They  were  in  danger 
of  regretting  their  precipitation,  and  seeking  after  ex- 
cuses for  not  fulfilling  their  engagements.  It  is,  there- 
fore, added  in  the  sixth  verse  :— "  Suffer  not  thy  mouth 
to  cause  thy  flesh  to  sin ;  neither  say  thou  before  the 
angel  that  it  (was)  an  error :  wherefore  should  God  be 
angry  at  thy  voice,  and  destroy  the  work  of  thy 
hands?" 

By  uttering  rash  vows,  the  mouth  caused  the  flesh 
to  sin. — "  Thy  flesh"  is  a  very  unusual  expression,  if 
we  understand  it  to  mean  no  more  than  thyself.  All 
fiesh,  indeed,  is  a  common  phrase  for  all  men,  or  man- 
kind ;  but  thy  fiesh  for  thyself  is  quite  unexampled. 
The  probability,  therefore,  is,  that  the  phrase  here,  as 
in  some  other  parts  of  Scripture,  signifies  corrupt  na- 
ture;  by  the  evil  principles  of  which  it  is,  that  men  are 
tempted  to  elude  the  performance  of  their  vows.  When 
a  person  made  such  engagements  rashly,  he  laid  a  stum- 
bling-block in  the  way  of  his  corruptions,  and  became 
his  own  tempter  to  the  commission  of  sin. 

"  Neither  say  thou  before  the  angel,  that  it  (was)  an 
error." — I  am  satisfied,  that  by  "  the  angel"  we  are 
here  to  understand  the  priest.  "  The  priest's  lips,"  says 
God  by  Malachi,  "  should  keep  knowledge,  and  they 
should  seek  the  law  at  his  mouth :  for  he  is  the  mes^ 


ECCLES.  y.  1 — 7.  195 

senger  (angel)  of  the  Lord  of  hosts. "^  Tlie  case  which 
is  supposed  makes  this  sufficiently  clear.  The  priest, 
in  his  official  capacity,  stood  and  acted  to  the  people  in 
God's  stead,  receiving  in  his  behalf,  their  vows  and 
free-will  offi^rings,  and  discharging  from  the  obligation 
of  them,  when  there  was  sufficient  legal  ground  for 
such  discharge. — There  were  appropriate  offerings  pre^ 
scribed  for  sins  of  ignorance ;  and  amongst  the  rest, 
for  vows  to  do  evil,  or  to  do  good,  in  certain  circum- 
stances :—"  If  a  soul  swear,  pronouncing  with  (his)  lips 
to  do  evil  or  to  do  good,  whatsoever  (it  be)  that  a  man 
shall  pronounce  with  an  oath,  and  it  be  hid  from  him ; 
when  he  knoweth  it,  then  he  shall  be  guilty  in  one  of 
these.  And  it  shall  be,  when  he  shall  be  guilty  in  one 
of  these  (things,)  that  he  shall  confess  that  he  hath 
sinned  in  that  (thing;)  and  he  shall  bring  his  trespass 
offering  unto  the  Lord  for  his  sin  which  he  hath 
binned."!  The  offiiTing  was  to  be,  according  to  the 
person's  circumstances,  a  lamb,  or  a  kid  of  the  goats, 
two  turtle-doves,  or  two  young  pigeons,  or  the  tenth 
part  of  an  ephah  of  fine  flour. — Now,  the  case  supposed 
and  cautioned  against,  in  the  passage  before  us,  is  the 
case  of  a  man,  who,  in  order  to  elude  the  performance 
of  a  vow  he  has  made,  comes  to  the  priest,  pretending 
that  it  was  *'  an  error,"  or  a  mistake,  a  thing  done  rashly, 
and  without  consideration  of  its  nature  and  conse- 
quences ;  a  vow  which  it  would,  as  he  has  since  dis- 
covered, be  improper  for  him  to  fulfil;  a  sin  of  igno- 
rance ;  and  v/ho,  making  this  confession,  presents,  or 
proposes  to  present,  the  appointed  offering. — This  view 
of  the  case  imparts  peculiar  force  to  the  words  which 
follow  :  "  Wherefore  should  God  be  angry  at  thy  voice, 
and  destroy  the  work  of  thy  hands  ?"    Such  hypocriti  ■ 

*  M.al.  ii.  7.  +  Lev.  r,  4—6. 


196  J^ECTURE  VIII. 

cal  mockery  of  God  would  expose  him  to  his  merited 
displeasure.  Thus  insulted,  he  would  be  provoked  to 
frown  upon  him: — and  whilst  the  foolish  deceiver 
might  be  "  blessing  himself  in  his  heart"  that  he  had 
succeeded  so  well  in  keeping  possession  of  the  sub- 
stance which  he  had  alienated  by  his  vow,  the  curse  of 
offended  Heaven  might  not  only  blast  what  he  had  felo- 
niously kept,  but  come  down  upon  all  that  he  had,  pre- 
venting his  prosperity,  embittering  his  sweets,  blight- 
ing his  prospects,  and  "  destroying  the  work  of  his 
hands."  This  is  just  the  opposite  of  the  promise  an- 
nexed to  the  duty  of  faithful  liberality  in  the  service  of 
God : — "  Honour  the  Lord  with  thy  substance,  and 
with  the  first-fruits  of  all  thine  increase ;  so  shall  thy 
barns  be  filled  with  plenty,  and  thy  presses  shall  burst 
out  with  new  wine."*  And  the  displeasure,  with  its 
effects, ,  which  Solomon  here  supposes,  God  actually 
threatened  of  old  by  his  prophets,  against  such  as  dealt 
unfaithfully  in  his  service.  "  If  ye  will  not  hear,  and  if 
ye  will  not  lay  (it)  to  heart,  to  give  glory  unto  my 
name,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  I  will  even  send  a  curse 
upon  you,  and  I  will  curse  your  blessings :  yea,  I  have 
cursed  them  already,  because  ye  do  not  lay  (it)  to 
heart."!  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  Consider 
your  ways.  Go  up  to  the  mountain,  and  bring  wood, 
and  build  the  house;  and  I  will  take  pleasure  in  it,  and 
I  will  be  glorified,  saith  the  Lord.  Ye  looked  for  much, 
and,  lo,  (it  came)  to  little;  and  when  ye  brought  (it) 
home,  I  did  blow  upon  it.  Why  ?  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts. 
Because  of  mine  house  that  (is)  waste,  and  ye  run  every 
man  unto  his  own  house.  Therefore  the  heaven  over 
you  is  stayed  from  dew,  and  the  earth  is  stayed  (from) 
her  fruit.     And  I  called  for  a  drought  upon  the  land, 

»  Prov.  iii.  9,  10.  t  Mai.  ii.  2. 


ECCLES.  V.  1^—7.  197 

and  upon  the  mountains,  and  upon  the  corn,  and  upon 
the  new  wine,  and  upon  the  oil,  and  upon  (that)  which 
the  ground  bringeth  forth,  and  upon  men,  and  upon 
cattle,  and  upon  all  the  labour  of  the  hands."*  "  And 
now,  I  pray  you,  consider  from  this  day  and  upward, 
from  before  a  stone  was  laid  upon  a  stone  in  the  temple 
of  the  Lord  ;  since  those  (days)  were,  when  (one)  came 
to  an  heap  of  twenty  (measures,)  there  were  (but)  ten: 
when  (one)  came  to  the  press-fat  to  draw  out  fifty 
(vessels)  out  of  the  press,  there  were  (but)  twenty.  I 
smote  you  with  blasting,  and  with  mildew,  and  with 
hail,  in  all  the  labours  of  your  hands ;  yet  ye  (turned) 
not  to  me,  saith  the  Lord.  Consider  now  from  this  day 
and  upward,  from  the  four  and  twentieth  day  of  the 
ninth  (month,  even)  from  the  day  that  the  foundation 
of  the  Lord's  temple  was  laid,  consider  (it.)  Is  the  seed 
yet  in  the  barn?  yea,  as  yet  the  vine,  and  the  fig-tree, 
and  the  pomegranate,  and  the  olive-tree,  hath  not 
brought  forth  :   from  this  day  will  I  bless  (you.")t 

Verse  7.  "  For  in  the  multitude  of  dreams,  and  many 
words,  (there  are)  also  (divers)  vanities :  but  fear  thou 
God." — Here  also,  I  think,  there  is  still  comparison. 
As  there  are  vanities  in  the  multitude  of  dreams,  so  are 
there  in  the  multitude  of  words.  When  a  man  talks 
much,  without  deliberation,  uttering  his  thoughts  as 
they  rise,  under  the  impulse  of  present  and  hasty  feel- 
ing, crude  and  indigested,  and  never-ending,  it  is  im- 
possible but  that  a  great  deal  of  sin  and  folly  must  in- 
termingle with  his  words.  It  is  rare  indeed,  that  "  a 
man  full  of  talk"  can  at  all  times  be  "justified."  He 
can  hardly  fail  to  utter  "  diverse  vanities ;"  and  it  will 
be  well,  if  his  words  are  not  frequently  worse  than  idle. 

The  remedy  for  all  the  evils  against  which  the  wise 

•  Hag.  i.  7—11.  t  Ibid.  ii.  15—19. 


198  LECTURE  VIII. 

man  directs  his  admonitions,  is  contained  in  the  last 
clause  of  this  verse :—"  But  fear  thou  God." — The 
reverential  fear  of  the  Most  High,  habitually  influencing 
the  mind  and  heart,  will  prevent  a  man  from  being 
"rash  with  his  mouth;"  from  being  ^' hast}'  to  utter 
any  thing  before  him ;"  and  especially  from  making 
inconsiderate  vows,  and  afterwards,  with  profane  dupli- 
city of  spirit,  seeking  excuses  for  not  fulfilling  them. 
^'  Sanctify  the  Lord  God  in  your  hearts ;  and  let  him 
be  your  fear,  and  let  him  be  your  dread."  Let  others 
act  the  part  of  "  fools  who  make  a  mock  at  sin;"  but 
**  be  thou  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day  long." 
Ever  '^  fear  that  glorious  and  fearful  name,  the  Lord 
THY  God  !" 

Of  such  vows  as  were  permitted  and  common  under 
the  Old  Dispensation,  we  have  no  recorded  •  and  ap- 
proved examples  under  the  New;  nor  are  any  direc- 
tions given  us,  for  the  making  or  the  performance  of 
them.  Resolutions,  in  the  strength  of  Divine  grace,  to 
serve  the  Lord,  to  cleave  to  him,  and  to  his  word,  and 
to  his  ways,  we  may,  with  propriety,  form  and  express. 
Of  this  nature  indeed  is  the  language  of  God's  people, 
in  their  addresses  to  himself,  every  day ;  and  always  has 
been,  and  always  must  be.  "  I  will  go,  in  the  strength 
of  the  Lord  God." — But  for  the  "  binding  of  the  soul" 
by  special  obligations,  such  as  imprecatory  oaths,  whe- 
ther verbal  or  written  ;  for  bringing  ourselves  under  a 
bond  superadded  to  the  sanction  of  the  Divine  com- 
mand, I  am  not  sure  that  we  have  any  warrant,  either 
from  the  conduct  or  the  writings  of  the  apostles  of 
Christ.  Paul's  vows,  recorded  in  the  eighteenth  and 
twenty- first  chapters  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and 
others  of  a  like  nature,  belonged  to  the  Old  Dispensa- 
Uon  I  which  had  then  only  "  waxed  old,  and  was  ready 


ECCLES.  V.  1 — 7.  ^99 

to  vanish  away;"  and,  although  virtually  abolished  by 
the  dtdth  of  Christ,  was  not  yet,  in  practice,  finally 
set  aside. 

\'ows  have  been  a  snare  to  the  consciences  of  many  ; 
especially  of  the  weak,  who  have  often  been  more 
afraid  of  transgressing  because  GocVs  vows,  they  say, 
are  upon  themy  than  on  account  of  the  simple  and  im- 
mediate obligation  of  Divine  authority.  They  are  very 
apt,  too,  as  every  thing  must  be  that  is  of  our  own  de- 
vising, when  they  do  not  produce  a  spirit  of  bondage 
and  fear,  to  engender  the  opposite  one  of  self-righteous 
confidence  and  presumption.  Vows  of  celibacy  and  pil- 
grimage ;  vows  of  money,  liouses,  and  lands,  to  pious 
uses ;  vows  at  baptism  and  the  Lord's  supper,  at  admis- 
sion to  church-fellovvshjp,  and  at  ministerial  ordination; 
and  the  oaths  of  personal  and  national  covenanting,  al- 
though some  of  them  are  more  objectionable  than 
others,  appear  alike  destitute  of  New  Testament  war- 
rant. When  the  word  vow  is  used,  as  it  frequently  is, 
sjnonimously,  or  nearly  so,  with  the  word  resolution^  it 
were  idle  to  quarrel  with  a  mere  term.  It  is  our  duty, 
however,  to  beware  of  ensnaring  our  souls  by  self-in- 
vented and  self-imposed  obligations,  and  of  every  such 
addition  to  his  will  as  might  draw  upon  us  the  reproof, 
"  Who  hath  required  this  at  your  hands?" 

But  although  the  New  Testament  is  silent  on  the 
subject  of  vowing,  yet  the  passage  we  have  been  re- 
viewing is  far  from  being  barren  of  practical  instruction 
to  us  in  these  latter  days. 

In  the  first  place.  Let  all  our  religious  services,  and 
particularly  (for  this  is  the  subject  before  us)  the  ser- 
vices of  the  house  of  God,  be  performed  by  us,  sin- 
cerely, considerately,  and  reverentially. — Sincerely : — 
for  the  first  and  most  indispensable  requisite  to  all  ac- 


goo  LECTURE  Vlli. 

ceptable  worship,  is,  that  the  "  heart  be  right  with 
God."  "  My  son,  give  me  thy  heart."  All  is  worthless 
without  this.  Considerately  .—all  should  be  the  dictate 
of  an  enlightened  understanding  and  a  maturely  reflect- 
ing mind.  We  should  think  well  what  we  are  doing, 
when  we  engage  in  the  different  exercises  of  Divine 
worship.  We  should  consider,  with  deliberate  serious- 
ness, the  character  of  the  Being  to  whom  we  approach  ; 
*'  believing  that  he  is,  and  that  he  is  a  rewarder  of  all 
them  that  diligently  seek  him :"— we  should  have  an 
enlightened  conception  of  the  nature  of  our  duties,  in 
praise  and  prayer,  in  speaking  and  hearing  the  word  of 
God,  in  showing  forth  the  Lord's  death,  in  administer- 
ing to  the  wants  of  our  poor  brethren,  and  in  occa- 
sionally attending  to  the  ordinance  of  baptism.  All 
these  services  should  be  done  with  the  understanding 
as  well  as  with  the  heart.  The  latter  without  the  former 
is  enthusiasm.  All  the  affections,  as  well  as  zeal,  must 
be  "according  to  knowledge."  "Did  not  our  heart 
burn  within  us,  while  he  talked  with  us  by  the  way-y 
and  while  he  opened  to  us  the  Scriptures  ?"— This 
union  of  the  understanding  and  the  heart  will  insure 
our  worshipping  reverentially.  There  is  no  peculiar 
sacredness  in  any  place  now,  as  there  was  in  the  tern- 
pie  of  old  :  but  the  exercises  of  the  worship  of  God  are 
themselves  sacred,  and  ought  to  be  solemn,  in  whatever 
place  performed.  "  Wherefore  we,  receiving  a  king- 
dom which  cannot  be  moved,  let  us  hold  the  grace, 
whereby  we  may  serve  God  acceptably,  with  reverence 
atidgodly  fear.''— In  fulfilment  of  this  duty,  let  there 
be  punctuality  in  the  time  of  your  coming  to  the  house 
of  God,  and  devotion  of  spirit,  and  gravity  of  demeanor, 
while  you  are  in  it.  He  surely  obeys  not  the  injunction 
"  keep  thy  foot  when  thou  goest  to  the  house  of  God," 


ECCLES.  V.  1 — 7.  SOI 

who  is  careless  about  being  there  in  due  time,  who  is 
detained  by  every  trifle,  and  sometimes  by  nothing  but 
mere  thoughtlessness,  and  can  thus  miss,  with  appa- 
rently no  regret,  some  part  of  the  worship,  the  first 
hymn  of  praise,  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures,  or  the 
opening  prayer.  The  conduct  of  those  who  are  in  the 
habit  of  coming  in  late,  is  severely  reprehensible,  as  a 
disturbance  of  the  worship,  and  a  distraction  to  the  at-^ 
tention  of  others.  The  decency  and  solemnity  becoming 
the  sanctuary  of  God  require,  that  all  the  worshippers 
should  be  in  their  places,  and  all  setded  and  still,  at  the 
commencement  of  the  service,  that  they  may  begin  and 
end  together. — The  subject  also  holds  out  a  reproof  to 
the  listless,  whose  attention,  even  in  the  most  solemn 
parts  of  worship,  is  distracted  by  the  merest  trifles,  and 
who  stare  about  them,  with  absent  minds,  in  idle  va- 
cancy ; — to  those,  who  instead  of  striving  against  the 
encroachments  of  drowsiness,  nod  without  restraint  in 
their  pews,  or  lay  down  their  heads,  with  perfect  com- 
posure to  a  comfortable  nap ;  and  to  those,  who  by 
loud  and  unsuppressed  coughing,  and  sneezing,  and  by 
other  noises,  which  they  are  at  no  pains  to  avoid,  dis- 
turb, without  any  plea  of  necessity,  the  stillness  and 
solemnity  of  the  worship.— Alas!  my  brethren,  we  have 
enough  within  us,  every  one  in  his  own  bosom,  to 
tempt  to  the  evil  of  "  drawing  nigh  to  God  with  our 
lips,  and  honouring  him  with  our  mouths  whilst  our 
hearts  are  far  from  him  ;"  we  need  no  extraneous  en- 
ticements, no  temptations  from  one  another. 

Secondly.  Let  us  be  always  prompt  in  fulfilling  our 
solemn  engagements  to  God.— Although  not  under  self- 
invented  and  self-imposed  vows,  we  yet  have  *^  given 
ourselves  to  the  Lord."  We  are  under  the  deepest  and 
most  sacred  obligations,  and  have  avowed  that  we  feel 
Cc 


20S  LECTURE  Tin. 

them ;  the  obligations  arising  from  Divine  autborit)'; 
and  from  Divine  goodness  and  grace.  *'  I  beseech  you? 
therefore,  brethren,  by  the  mercies  of  God,  that  ye  pre- 
sent your  bodies  (your  whole  persons)  a  living  sacrifice, 
holy,  acceptable  unto  God,  (which  is)  your  reasonable 
service."  "  Ye  are  not  your  own  ;  for  ye  are  bought 
with  a  price :  therefore,  glorify  God  in  your  bodies,  and 
in  your  spirits,  which  are  God's."*— If  we  feel  these 
obligations  aright,  all  our  obedience  will  be  charac- 
terized by  promptitude ;  **  I  thought  on  my  ways,  and 
turned  my  feet  unto  thy  testimonies :  I  made  haste,  and 
delayed  not,  to  keep  thy  commandments."!— Every 
part  of  our  service  to  God  should  be  thus  prompt  and 
cheerful ;  yielded  "  with  a  ready  mind,"  "  not  grudg- 
ingly or  of  necessity."  In  particular,  we  are  under 
obligation,  though  not  by  special  vow,  to  "  honour  the 
Lord  with  our  substance,  and  with  the  first-fruits  of  all 
our  increase."  It  will  be  a  comfortable  reflection^ 
should  God,  in  his  providence,  be  pleased  to  deprive 
us  of  the  means  of  thus  honouring  him,  that  we  did 
not,  while  in  possession  of  them,  shut  our  heart  and 
hand  against  his  paramount  claims,  and  withhold  from 
him  his  due  ;  that  it  is  not  on  this  account,  but  in  the 
exercise  of  that  love  that  chastens  for  the  profit  of  his 
children,  that  he  "  destroys  the  work  of  our  hands." 
Thirdly.  Let  all  the  professed  people  of  God  examine 
themselves,  lest  they  should  have  '*  a  name  to  live  while 
they  are  dead,"  a  "  form  of  godliness  while  they  deny 
its  power."  Remember  what  was  already  stated,  and 
what  I  repeat  and  urge  upon  your  attention,  because 
of  its  essential  importance,  that,  if  your  hearts  are  not 
given  to  God,  but  still  set  on  the  world,  no  externa! 
services,  though  attended  to  with  the  most  punctilious 

*  Rom.  xli.  L    1  Cor.  vi,  19,  20.  t  Psal.  cxix.  S9y  6(), 


ECCLES.  V.  1 7.  SOS 

exactness,  can  ever  be  pleasing  in  his  sight.  They  are 
the  "  sacrifices  of  fools,"  and  shall  profit  you  nothing? 
and  if  ^"-for  a  pretence  you  make  long  prayers,  you 
shall  only  receive  the  greater  damnation."  *'  Let  the 
sinners  in  Zion  be  afraid ;  let  fearfulness  surprise  the 
hypocrites." 

Lastly,  Let  all  consider,  on  -what  ground  they  draw 
near  to  God,  in  the  exercises  either  of  private  or  public 
worship.  This  is  a  most  essential  point  for  deliberation. 
There  is  but  one  way  of  access ;  one  plea ;  one  ground 
of  acceptable  homage.  "Through  him"  (Christ  Je- 
sus) "  we  both"  (Jews  and  Gentiles)  "  have  access,  by 
one  Spirit,  unto  the  Father."  "  Having,  therefore,  bre- 
thren, boldness  to  enter  into  the  Holiest  aY  the  blood 
OF  Jesus,  by  a  new  and  living  way  which  he  hath  con- 
secrated for  us  through  the  vail,  that  is  to  say,  his  flesh ; 
and  (having)  a  High  Priest  over  the  House  of  God : 
let  us  draw  near  with  true  hearts,  in  full  assurance  of 
faith,  having  our  hearts  sprinkled  from  an  evil  con- 
science, and  our  bodies  washed  with  pure  water."* 
All  our  services,  then,  must  be  in  the  name  of  Jesus. 
They  must  be  "  spiritual  sacrifices,"  and  they  are 
*' acceptable  to  God  by  Jesus  Christ."  This  implies 
faith  in  Jesus,  on  the  part  of  the  worshipper ;  and  with- 
out this  faith  it  is  therefore  impossible  for  you  to  please 
him.  This  always  was  the  way  of  acceptance  to  the 
persons  and  services  of  sinners,  although  it  was  not  of 
old  so  fully  and  clearly  revealed.  It  is  the  way  still ; 
and  every  approach  to  God,  except  through  the  media- 
tion of  the  blessed  and  only  Redeemer,  is  arr  act  of  un- 
hallowed presumption.— And  on  the  same  ground  on 
which  we  are  accepted  in  our  worship  here,  must  we 
stand  before  the  Divine  tribunal  in  the  great  day.     In 

*  Eph.  ii.  18.  Heb=  x.  19—22. 


g01<  LECTURE   VIII. 

ihe  '*  House  of  God"  above,  solemn  worship  is  for  ever 
ad(iressed  by  the  holy  and  happy  inhabitants,  "  to  Him 
that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb." 
There,  there  is  no  "  sacrifice  of  fools."  Every  mind 
and  every  heart  are  engaged,  in  the  perfection  of  know- 
ledge, and  purity,  and  love,  and  joy.  "  God  is  in  hea- 
ven," says  Solomon,  "  and  thou  upon  earth  ;  therefore 
let  thy  words  be  few."  But  though  all  shall  then  be 
advanced  to  heaven,  even  in  the  intimacy  of  the  upper 
sanctuary  the  distance  between  the  creature  and  the 
creator  shall  be  felt,  as  it  never  was  felt  before ;  and 
holy  reverence  shall  characterize  the  worship  of  heaven 
infinitely  more  than  it  now  does  that  of  earth  ; — holy 
reverence,  in  delightful  association  with  the  perfection 
of  that  love  which  "  casteth  out  fear." — "  After  this  I 
beheld,  and,  lo,  a  great  multitude,  which  no  man  could 
number,  of  all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and  peoples,  and 
tongues,  stood  before  the  throne,  and  before  the  Lamb, 
clothed  with  white  robes,  and  palms  in  their  hands ; 
and  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  saying,  Salvation  to  our 
God  who  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  tinto  the  Lamb. 
And  all  the  angels  stood  round  about  the  throne,  and 
(about)  the  elders  and  the  four  living  creatures,  and  fell 
before  the  throne  on  their  faces,  and  worshipped  God, 
saying,  Amen :  Blessing,  and  glory,  and  wisdom,  and 
thanksgiving,  and  honour,  and  power,  and  might,  (be) 
unto  our  God  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen.  And  one  of 
the  elders  answered,  saying  unto  me,  What  are  these 
who  are  arrayed  in  white  robes?  and  whence  came 
they?  And  I  said  unto  him,  Sir,  thou  knowest.  And 
he  said  to  me.  These  are  they  who  came  out  of  great 
tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes,  and  made  them 
white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb :  therefore  are  they  be- 
fore the  throne  of  God,  and  serve  him  day  and  night  in 


ECCLES.  V.  1 — 7.  205 

his  temple  :  and  He  that  sitteth  on  the  throne  shall  dwell 
among  them.  They  shall  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst 
any  more  ;  neither  shall  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any 
heat :  for  the  Lamb,  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne, 
shall  feed  them,  and  shall  lead  them  unto  living  foun- 
tains of  waters  :  and  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from 
their  eyes."* 

'  Rev.  vii.  9-17. 


LECTURE  IX. 


ECCLES.  V.  8 — 20. 

S  "  If  thou  seest  the  o/ifiression  of  the  poor,  and  violent  perverting  of 
judgment  and  justice  in  a  province,  marvel  not  at  the  matter:  for 
(he  that  is  J  higher  than  the  highest  regardeth  ;  and  (there  be) 

9  higher  than  they.    Moreover,  the  profit  of  the  earth  is  for  all:  the 

SO  king  (himself J  is  served  by  the  field.  He  that  loveth  silver  shall  not 

be  satisfied  ivith  silver  ;  nor  he  that  loveth  abundance  ivith  increase. 

11  This  (is  J  also  vanity.  When  goods  increase,  they  are  increased  that 
eat  them  :  and  ivhat  good  (is  there  J  to  the  owners  thereof,  saving 

12  the  beholding  (of  them)  ivith  their  eyes  ?  The  sleep  of  a  labouring 
man  (is)  sweet,  whether  he  eat  little  or  much  :  but  the  abundance  of 

13  the  rich  will  not  suffer  him  to  sleep.  There  is  a  sore  evil  (which)  I 
have  seen  under  the  sun,  (namely,)  riches  kept  for  the  owners  thereof 

14  to  their  hurt.   But  those  riches  perish  by  evil  travail ;  and  he  beget- 

15  teth  a  son,  and  (there  is)  nothing  in  his  hand.  As  he  came  forth  of 
his  mother's  womb,  naked  shall  he  return  to  go  as  he  came,  and  shall 
take  nothing  of  his  labour,  which  he  may  carry  away  in  his  hand. 

16  Jlnd  this  also  (is)  a  sore  evil,  (that)  in  all  points  as  he  came,  so 
shallhego  :  atid  what  profit  hath  he  that  hath  laboured  for  the  wind  ? 

17  jill  his  days  also  he  eateth  in  darkness,  and  (he  hath)  much  sor- 

18  row  and  wrath  with  his  sick?iess.  Behold  (that)  which  I  have  seen  : 
(it  is)  good  and  comely  (for  one)  to  cat  and  to  drink,  and  to  enjoy 
the  good  of  all  his  labour  that  he  taketh  under  the  sun  all  the  days 

19  o/  his  life,  which  God  giveth  him  ;  for  it  (is)  his  portion.  Every 
man  also  to  whom  God  hath  given  riches  and  wealth,  and  hath  given 
him  power  to  eat  thereof,  and  to  take  his  portion,  and  to  rejoice  in 

I'O  his  labour  ;  this  (is)  the  gift  of  God.  For  he  shall  not  much  re- 
member the  days  of  his  life ;  because  God  answereth  (him)  in  the 
joy  of  his  heart." 


J.N  such  a  book  as  this,  it  would  be  unreasonable  to 
expect  a  close  and  immediately  perceptible  connection 
between  its  different  parts.  The  writer  should  be  con- 
sidered as  taking  a  survey  of  human  life,  in  its  various 
departments  and  appearances,  as  these  presented  them- 


ECCLES.  y.  8 — ^0.  207 

selves  to  his  mind.  His  book,  therefore,  does  not  bear, 
throughout,  the  form  of  a  regular  dissertation.  He  ap- 
pears at  times  to  start  suddenly  from  one  subject  to 
another ;  and  sometimes  to  resume  a  former  subject, 
which  has  again  suggested  itself  under  some  new  as- 
pect or  relation.  In  these  cases,  there  might  frequently 
be  an  association  in  the  mind  of  the  writer,  that  not 
only  escapes  a  superficial  reader,  but  is  even  undiscer- 
nible  by  the  most  attentive  and  judicious; — for  every 
man  who  pays  any  attention  to  the  operations  of  his 
own  mind,  must  be  sensible,  how  slight  and  remote, 
how  airy  and  evanescent,  the  associations  of  his  ideas 
often  are  ;  so  that  many  a  time  he  is  himself  unable  at 
all  to  recollect  what  it  was  that  brought  the  two 
thoughts  together. 

The  eighth  verse  of  this  chapter  does  not  seem  to 
have  any  connection  with  what  immediately  precedes, 

unless  it  be  with  the  last  words  of  the  seventh  verse, 

"  but  Jear  thou  God.''^  This  mention  of  the  fear  of  God 
might  naturally  enough  suggest  to  the  mind  of  the  writer 
the  conduct  of  some  of  the  great  men  of  the  earth,  who, 
regardless  of  their  Divine  superior,  abused  their  power, 
and  kept  their  subjects  in  perpetual  dread.  The  fear 
of  God  was  the  best  corrective,  both  of  the  tyranny  of 
the  oppressor,  and  of  the  fear  of  the  oppressed. — 
Whether  this  was  the  link  of  connection  or  not,  he  re- 
sumes here  a  subject  on  which  he  had  more  than  once 
touched  already  ;*  and  the  light  in  which  it  is  taken 
up,  seems  rather  to  favour  the  view  given  of  the  asso- 
ciation of  ideas  in  his  mind : — 

Verse  8.  "  If  thou  seest  the  oppression  of  the  poor, 
and  violent  perverting  of  judgment  and  justice  in  a  pro- 
vince, marvel  not  at  the  matter :  for  (he  that  is)  higher 

♦  Chap.  Ui.  16, 1?'.  iv.  1—3, 


208  LECTURE    IX. 

than  the  highest  regardeth  ;  and  (there  be)  higher  than 
they." 

"  jMarvel  not  at  the  matter."— This  might  indeed  be 
understood  to  mean,  that,  in  a  world  of  fallen  creatures, 
and  considering  the  depth  of  human  corruption,  there 
is  little  reason  to  wonder  at  such  perversions  of  power 
and  justice  : — or,  supposing  a  particular  reference  to  the 
persecution  of  the  righteous  by  the  power  of  the  wick- 
ed, that  this  need  not  be  matter  of  great  astonishment, 
when  the  same  considerations  are  taken  into  account, 
together  with  the  fact,  that,  so  far  from  being  a  novel 
and  strange  occurrence,  it  has  existed  from  the  begin- 
ning ;  even  since  the  days  of  Cain,  who  slew  Abel, 
^'  because  his  own  works  were  evil,  and  his  brother's 
righteous."  The  apostle  John  quotes  this  example  of 
early  malignity,  for  the  same  purpose  of  suppressing 
wonder  ;  subjoining  immediately,  •*  Marvel  not,  my 
brethren,  if  the  world  hate  you."* 

I  am  disposed  to  think,  however,  that  neither  of  these 
js  the  true  meaning;  but  that  Solomon  alludes  to  that 
description  of  "  marvelling,"  which  involves  in  it  some 
rising  hesitancy,  some  secret,  undefined,  but  painful 
and  distracting  doubts,  about  the  superintending  pro- 
vidence of  God  :— that  wonder,  which  tempts  a  person, 
on  witnessing  such  scenes  of  iniquity  and  cruelty,  and 
perceiving  no  symptoms  of  vengeance  coming  down 
on  the  oppressor,  to  say  in  his  heart,  "  How  doth  God 
know  ?  and  is  there  knowledge  in  the  Most  High  !"— 
''  Marvel  not  at  the  matter,"  says  the  wise  man  ;  "  for 
(he  that  is)  higher  than  the  highest  regardeth." — You 
may  be  tempted  to  question  the  knowledge,  or  even  to 
doubt  the  existence,  of  a  superintending  providence ; 
but  be  assured  you  are  mistaken :  *'  (He  that  is)  higher 

*  IJohniii.  J2,  13. 


ECCLES.  V.  8— -20.  g09 

than  the  highest  regardeth."  "  Verily  there  is  a  God 
that  judgeth  in  the  earth."  <'  The  Lord's  throne  is  in 
the  heavens :  his  eyes  behold,  his  eye-lids  try,  the  chil- 
dren of  men."  He  is  "  higher  than  the  highest."  He 
'•  whose  name  alone  is  Jehovah,  is  the  most  high  over 
all  the  earth ;"  infinitely  elevated,  in  majesty  and  power^^ 
above  the  greatest,  and  mightiest,  and  proudest  of  the 
potentates  of  this  vi^orld. — And  he  *'  regardeth.''— Ygs,  z 
*•  the  high  and  lofty  One  who  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose 
name  is  holy,  whodwelleth  in  the  high  and  holy  place,'* 
— "  regardeth:"— not  as  an  unconcerned  spectator,  but 
as  a  righteous  governor  and  judge  ;  his  "  eye-lids  ^ry- 
m^,"  as  well  as  his  "  eyes  beholding.''  And  often,  when 
this  sentiment  is  expressed,  and  this  assurance  given^ 
it  is  in  connection  with  the  Divine  regard  to  the  poor, 
and  his  abhorrence  of  these  oppressors.—"  He  (the 
wicked)  haih  said  in  his  heart,  God  hath  forgotten  ;  he 
hideth  his  face  ;  he  will  never  see  it.  Arise,  O  Lord  3 
O  God,  lift  up  thy  hand ;  forget  not  the  humble.  Where- 
fore doth  the  wicked  contemn  God  ?  He  hath  said  in 
his  heart,  Thou  will  not  require  it.  Thou  hast  seen  it ; 
for  thou  beholdest  mischief  and  spite,  to  requite  it  with 
thy  hand  :  the  poor  committeth  himself  unto  thee  ;  thou 
art  the  helper  of  the  fatherless."  "  For  the  oppression 
of  the  poor,  for  the  sighing  of  the  needy,  now  will  I 
arise,  saith  the  Lord  ;  I  will  set  him  in  safety  from  him 
that  puffeth  at  him."  "  Say  ye  to  the  righteous,  that  it 
shall  be  well  with  him  ;  for  they  shall  eat  the  fruit  of 
their  doings.  Wo  unto  the  wicked  ;  for  it  shall  be  ill 
with  him ;  for  the  reward  of  his  hands  shall  be  given 
him. — The  Lord  will  enter  into  judgment  with  the  an- 
cients of  his  house,  and  with  the  princes  thereof :  for 
ye  have  eaten  up  the  vineyard ;  the  spoil  of  the  poor  is 
in  your  houses.  What  mean  ye,  that  ye  beat  my  people 
Dd 


-Jiy  LECTURE  IX. 

in  pieces,  and  grind  the  faces  of  the  poor  ?  saith  the 
Lortl  God  of  hosts."— "  I  will  come  near  to  you  to  judg- 
ment; and  I  will  be  a  swift  witness  against  the  sorcerers, 
and  against  the  adulterers,  and  against  false  swearers, 
and  against  those  that  oppress  the  hireling  in  his  wages, 
the  widow  and  the  fatherless,  and  that  turn  aside  the 
stranger  from  his  right,  and  fear  not  me,  saith  the  Lord 
of  hosts."  "  Go  to  now,  (ye)  rich  men,  weep  and  howl 
for  your  miseries  that  shall  come  upon  (you.)  Your 
riches  are  corrupted,  and  your  garments  are  moth- 
eaten.  Your  gold  and  silver  is  cankered  ;  and  the  rust 
of  them  shall  be  a  witness  against  you,  and  shall  eat 
your  flesh  as  it  were  fire.  Ye  have  heaped  treasure 
together  for  the  last  days.  Behold,  the  hire  of  the  la- 
bourers who  have  reaped  down  your  fields,  which  is  of 
you  kept  back  by  fraud,  crieth :  and  the  cries  of  them 
who  have  reaped  are  entered  into  the  ears  of  the  Lord 
of  sabaoth.  Ye  have  lived  in  pleasure  on  the  earth,  and 
been  wanton  ;  ye  have  nourished  your  hearts,  as  in  a 
day  of  slaughter.  Ye  have  condemned  (and)  killed  the 
just ;  (and)  he  doth  not  resist  you.  Be  patient  there- 
fore,  brethren,  unto  the  coming  of  the  Lord.  Behold, 
the  husbandm.an  waiteth  for  the  precious  fruit  of  the 
earth,  and  hath  long  patience  for  it,  until  he  receive  the 
early  and  latter  rain."* — Thus  "  (he  that  is)  higher  than 
the  highest  regardeth."  His  penal  judgments  may  not, 
in  any  remarkable  way,  fall  upon  the  objects  of  his  dis- 
pleasure in  this  world  :— but  still  he  "  regardeth  :"  he 
marks,  and  he  records,  every  thought  and  word,  and 
deed  of  iniquity  and  violence,  and  will  bring  it  into 
judgment.  "  He  is  not  a  God  that  delighteth  in  wicked- 
ness ;  neither  shall  evil  dwell  with  him  :  the  foolish  shall 
not  stand  in  his  sight ;  he  hateth  all  the  workers  of  ini- 

*  Psal.  X,  12— U.  sii.  5.    Isa.  iii.  10—15.    Mai.  iii.  5.    Jam.  v,  1—7. 


ECCLES.  V.  8 20.  211 

quity."*— -"  Surely  thou  didst  set  them  in  slippery 
places ;  thou  castedst  them  down  into  destruction  :  how 
are  they  (brought)  into  desolation  as  in  a  moment !  they 
are  utterly  consumed  with  terrors.  As  a  dream  when 
(one)  awaketh,  (soj  O  Lord,  when  thou  awakest,  thou 
shalt  despise  their  image  !"f 

The  last  clause  of  this  verse,  ^'  and  (there  be)  higher 
than  they,"  seems  to  he  most  naturally  interpreted  of 
the  angelic  ministers  of  ♦'  Him  who  is  higher  than  the 
highest;"  the  celestial  messengers  and  agents,  by  whom 
he  executes  many  of  the  plans  of  his  providence  ;  who 
are  "  greater  in  power  and  might"  than  the  very  greatest 
of  earthly  oppressors ;  who,  with  the  swiftness  and  the 
energy  of  "  flames  of  fire,"  fulfil  the  commissions  of 
the  Divine  throne ;  whose  agency  is  conspicuous  in  the 
Scripture  history,  and  who,  though  in  a  manner  unseen 
and  unknown  by  us,  are  doubtless  employed  still,  both 
in  messages  of  mercy  in  behalf  of  God's  people,  and 
in  the  infliction  of  judicial  vengeance  on  his  enemies. 
The  superiority  of  these  vicegerents  of  heaven  to  the 
mightiest  tyrants  of  this  world,  the  ''  oppressors  of  the 
poor,"  the  **  perverters  of  judgment  and  justice,"  was 
strikingly  displayed,  when  one  of  them,  in  a  single  night, 
smote  and  destroyed  the  myriads  of  the  host  of  Senna- 
cherib  ;  when  "  the  Lord  sent  his  angel  and  delivered 
Peter  out  of  the  hand  of  Herod,  and  from  all  the  ex- 
pectation of  the  people  of  the  Jews ;"  and  when  the 
messenger  of  Divine  jealousy  *^  smote"  the  tyrant, 
*'  because,"  in  his  high  estate,  "  he  gave  not  God  the 
glory,"  and  saved  the  Church  from  his  persecuting 
violence.:}: 

In  the  verses  which  follow,  a  good  deal  of  the  senti- 

♦  Psal,  V.  4,  5.  t  Psal.  IxxUi.  18—20, 

t  2  Kings  six.  35.  Acts  xii.  1 1,  23. 


212  LECTURE  IX. 

ment  is  similar  to  what  has  been  formerly  illustrated. 
They  are  introduced  here,  apparently  for  two  purposes ; 
.—in  the  first  place,  to  comfort  and  encourage  "  the 
poor,"  even  although  by  "  oppression"  their  right 
should  be  taken  away,  and  they  should  be  kept  down, 
and  prevented  from  rising  in  the  world  ;  and  in  the  next 
place,  to  settle  the  doubts  of  the  man  who  witnesses  the 
«'  oppression  of  the  poor,"  the  vvresting  of  their  judg- 
ment, and  the  distress  which  they  are  thus  made  to  en- 
dure,  by  showing,  that  true  happiness  is  by  no  means 

on  the  side  of  the  most  successful  and  the  wealthiest 
oppressor  ;— or,  in  other  words,  that  "  a  man's  life  con- 
sisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  which  he 
possesseth." 

Let  us  take  up  the  sentiments  expressed  in  the  suc- 
cessive verses,  and  observe  their  bearing  upon  this 
general  position  :— 

1.  Natural  wants  are  easily  satisfied: — verse  9. 
*'  Moreover,  the  profit  of  the  earth  is  for  all :  the  king 
(himself)  is  served  of  the  field." 

*^  The  profit  of  the  earth"  is  its  produce ;  and  es- 
pecially corn,  or  bread,  which  is  the  staff  of  life,— the 
immediate  and  indispensable  means  of  its  support.  It 
is  "  for  all:"  it  is  appointed  for  all ;  it  is  sufficient  for 
all ;  and,  although  in  various  measures,  all  partake  of 
it.  And  of  all  to  whom  *^  their  bread  is  given"  it  may 
with  truth  be  said,  that  they  have  all  that  the  earth  can 
yield,  of  real  necessaries,  even  to  the  king  himself. 
Koyalty  indeed  may  possess  more  than  poverty  of  the 
luxuries  of  Ufe  ;  but  these  contribute  little  to  true  en- 
joyment ;  often  they  are  the  sources  of  suffering. — 
Without  the  tillage  of  the  ground,  the  king  himself 
could  not  have  bread, — and  could  not  live  : — so  that, 
in  one  view,  and  that  a  very  important  one,  the  king  is 


ECCLES.  T.  8 — SO.  213 

more  dependent  on  the  ploughman,  than  the  plough- 
man is  on  the  king.  Of  all  the  arts  of  civilized  man, 
agriculture  is  transcendently  the  most  essential  and 
valuable.  Other  arts  may  contribute  to  the  comfort, 
the  convenience,  and  the  embellishment  of  life  ;  but 
the  cultivation  of  the  soil  stands  in  immediate  connec- 
tion with  our  very  existence.  The  life  itself,  to  whose 
comfort  and  convenience  and  embellishment  other  arts 
contribute,  is  by  this  to  be  sustained ;  so  that  others 
without  it  can  avail  nothing.  In  their  dependence  on 
**  the  field"  all  are  equal :  the  prince  and  the  peasant 
are  alike  *'  served"  of  it.  And  thus,  all  classes  are 
mutually  dependent  on  one  another ;  by  which  the  rich 
should  be  taught  humility,  and  the  poor  contentment. 
The  latter,  if  they  have  their  share  of  **  the  profit  of  the 
earth,*'  have  by  far  the  most  valuable  of  its  productions. 
The  king  may  have  the  garniture  of  life ;  but  they  pos- 
sess, in  common  with  him,  its  substance.  The  king 
has  indeed  what  they  want ;  but  they  have  what  the 
king  cannot  want.  They  can  do  without  what  the  king 
has  ;  but  the  king  cannot  do  without  what  they  have. 

2.  The  poor  are  widely  mistaken^  if  they  imagine  that 
the  gratification  of  a  man's  desires  in  the  acquisition  of 
wealth  always  produces  the  expected  satisfaction  .-—verse 
10.  "  He  that  loveth  silver  shall  not  be  satisfied  with 
silver ;  nor  he  that  loveth  abundance  with  increase. 
This  (is)  also  vanity." 

"  He  that  loveth  silver"  is  the  man  that  sets  his  heart 
upon  riches,  and  places  his  happiness  in  the  attainment 
of  them ;  and  "  he  that  loveth  abundance"  is  only  another 
form  of  the  same  designation.  He  "  shall  not  be  sa- 
tisfied with  silver :"  that  is,  when  he  has  gotten  it,  he 
will  find  himself  disappointed  in  his  expectations  from 
the  acquisition  I  he  will  find  himself  the  possessor  in- 


SI 4  LECTURE  IX. 

deed  of  abundance,  but  not  on  that  account  the  posses- 
sor bf  happiness. — A  man's  ideas  and  desires  enlarge 
as  he  advances.  His  notions  of  poverty  and  riches, 
which  are  to  so  great  a  degree  relative  terms,  undergo 
change  with  his  changing  circumstances.  What  seemed 
to  him  riches  at  the  outset  of  his  career,  soon  comes  to 
be  accounted  poverty.  That  which,  from  a  lower  point 
in  the  scale,  was  the  height  of  his  ambition,  becomes, 
when  he  has  reached  it,  only  a  point  from  which  to  look 
higher.  He  never  says  '*  It  is  enough ;"  but  what  he 
gets  is  still  but  the  means  of  getting  more.  The  thirst 
of  gain,  instead  of  being  quenched,  becomes  more  and 
more  ardent  and  insatiable. — And  if  a  man  has  not  a 
satisfied  and  contented  mind,  he  is  in  want  of  the  very 
essence  of  happiness.  He  carries  about  within  him  a 
source  of  disquietude  and  ''  vexation  of  spirit,'*  which 
will  make  him  unhappy  amidst  the  most  superfluous 
abundance.  A  contented  spirit  is  the  very  first  requi- 
site of  true  enjoyment :  and  the  poor  man  who  has  but 
*^  food  and  raiment,"  and  both,  it  may  be,  scantily,  is 
more  really  and  substantially  happy  if  he  possesses  it, 
than  the  richest  on  earth  can  ever  be  without  it. — Even 
when  a  man  has  so  far  appeared  to  be  satisfied  with 
what  he  has  got,  as  to  retire  from  the  pursuit  of  more, 
he  will  still  feel  a  void, — "  an  aching  void  ;"  to  a  greater 
degree  sometimes,  than  when  the  bustle  of  business 
kept  his  mind  engaged.  It  is  not  in  the  power  of  mere 
wealth  to  confer  solid  satisfaction.  The  desires  of  the 
soul  cannot  be  filled  by  it ;  nor  can  it  either  prevent  or 
remove  the  various  ^*  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to."  It  can- 
not insure  against  a  single  disease  ;  it  cannot  alleviate 
pain  ;  it  cannot  ward  oflf  from  its  possessor  himself  the 
stroke  of  death  ;  nor  can  it  purchase  the  continuance 
of  life  to  wife  or  children,  kinsman  or  friend,  or  redeem 


ECCLES.  V.  8 — SO.  215 

it  when  it  has  gone  down  to  the  grave.  "  The  small 
and  the  great  are  there." 

3.  Those  who  live  by  the  wealth  of  the  rich  man^ — 
the  man  whose  heart  is  set  upon  his  riches — have  as 
much,  if  not  more,  enjoyment  of  it  than  he  has  himself: 
— verse  11.  *^  When  goods  increase,  they  are  increased 
that  eat  them :  and  what  good  is  there  to  the  owners 
thereof,  saving  the  beholding  of  them  with  the  eyes'?" 

The  rich  man,  as  he  rises  in  the  world,  must  keep 
u\i  a  corresponding  establishment.  As  his  riches  in- 
crease, the  number  of  his  servants  and  retainers,  of 
various  descriptions,  increases.  To  the  covetous,  who 
has  given  his  heart,  and  time,  and  toil,  to  the  acquire- 
ment of  abundance,  this  is  a  source  of  incessant  fretful- 
ness  and  vexation.  There  is  within  him  a  contention 
of  opposite  feelings.  He  must  keep  up  a  certain  appear- 
ance in  the  world.  Yet  the  waste  of  his  dear  pelf,  squan- 
dered by  menials  and  overseers,  or  even  necessarily 
expended  on  "  the  pride  of  life,"  costs  him  many  a 
pang.  It  keeps  him  ever  grudging  and  ever  complain- 
ing.-^The  number  of  consumers  multiplying  with  his 
increasing  means,  he  is  not  in  fact  richer,  nay,  he  may 
even  be  poorer,  than  when  he  had  less  wealth  and  fewer 
mouths  to  feed.  And  all  the  while,  what  has  he  of  the 
enjoyment  of  his  riches,  beyond  those  who  live  upon 
him,  "  saving  the  beholding  of  them  with  his  eyes  ?"— . 
the  mere  gratification  of  looking  on  his  treasures,  and 
saying,  *'  These  are  mine!"  And  is  this  difference 
worth  much  ?  Is  there  any  rational  and  substantial 
gratification  in  it  ?  Is  it  a  sufficient  compensation  for 
the  toil  with  which  wealth  has  been  gained,  and  the 
anxious  care  with  which  it  is  kept  ? 

Riches  increased  in  Solomon's  own  reign  ;  and  the 
number  of  his  servants  and  retainers,  the  extent  and 


SIO  LECTURE  IX* 

splendour  of  his  establishment,  increased  in  proportion* 
'^  His  provision  for  one  day,"  the  history  informs  us, 
*<  was  thirty  measures  of  fine  flour,  and  threescore 
measures  of  meal,  ten  fat  oxen,  and  twenty  oxen  out  of 
the  pastures,  and  a  hundred  sheep,  beside  harts  and 
roe-bucks,  and  fallow-deer,  and  fatted  fowl."  Thus, 
'*  as  riches  increased  they  were  increased  that  ate  them :" 
and,  had  Solomon  been  one  who  "  loved  silver,"  the 
only  diflference  between  him  and  his  servants,  (who,  in 
all  essential  respects — in  all  that  regards  the  wants  of 
nature,  and  even  the  real  comforts  of  life,  were  as 
well  off  as  their  master,)  would  have  been,  the  "  be- 
holding of  his  treasures  with  his  eyes,"  and  calling 
them  his  own  ;  with  this  difference  indeed  against  him 
in  the  balance,  that  his  breast  would  have  been  the  re- 
sidence of  all  the  care. 

4.  This  care  is  next  mentioned,  as  a  source  of  irk- 
some and  sleepless  disquietude  to  the  man  of  wealth : — - 
Verse  12.  "  The  sleep  of  a  labouring  man  is  sweet, 
whether  he  eat  little  or  much  ;  but  the  abundance  of 
the  rich  will  not  suffer  him  to  sleep." 

It  appears  to  be  of  the  anxiety  produced  by  wealth, 
in  the  bosom  of  the  covetous,  the  man,  who  ^'  loveth 
silver,"  that  Solomon  here  speaks,  as  adding  nights  of 
sleeplessness  to  days  of  solicitude  and  "  vexation  of 
spirit."  Innumerable  are  the  apprehensions  and  dis- 
quieting jealousies  and  alarms,  some  well-founded,  and 
others  groundless,  that  haunt  the  bosom  of  the  rich 
man  whose  wealth  is  his  idol  and  his  all; — apprehen- 
sions, and  jealousies,  and  alarms,  from  which  the  man 
of  moderate  possessions  is  comparatively  free.  The  full 
meals  of  the  rich  and  luxurious  may  be  envied  by  the 
poor  and  hard-toiled  labourer  ;  yet  they  frequently  have 


EccLEs.  V.  8 — 20.  aiy 

no  other  e fleet  than  to  add  to  the  restlessness  of  anxiety, 
harassing  even  the  little  sleep  they  can  obtain, 

(" short,  as  usual,  and  distuib'd  repose,") 

with  scaring  dreams  and  phalitasms  of  terror. — On  the 
contrary,  ^'  the  sleep  of  a  labouring  man  is  sweet, 
whether  he  eat  little  or  much."  If  he  has  but  a  scanty 
meal,  his  fatigue  has  prepared  him  for  sound  repose  ; 
and  when  he  can  have  a  larger  allowance  of  his  plain 
and  wholesome  flire,  his  healthy  and  vigorous  consti- 
tution procures  him  a  regular  and  ready  digestion  : — 
and  he  is,  at  the  same  time,  happily  free  of  those  sud- 
den starts  and  anxious  fears  by  which  the  rich  world- 
ling is  so  often  agitated,  and  '^  his  eyes  held  waking." 
— The  labouring  peasant  has  in  general  little  cause  to 
envy  either  the  days  or  the  nights  of  his  wealthy  lord 
or  neighbour,  if  he  be  a  man  whose  riches  are  his  por- 
tion and  his  heart's  desire.  It  is  of  such  that  Solomon 
speaks. 

5.  Riches  sometimes  prove  the  occasion  to  their  pos- 
sessors of  the  most  serious  injury  .—Ytrsts  13,  14. 
*'  There  is  a  sore  evil  which  I  have  seen  under  the  sun^ 
namely,  riches  kept  for  the  owners  of  them  to  their  hurt : 
but  these  riches  perish  by  evil  travail :  and  he  begetteth 
a  son,  and  there  is  nothing  in  his  hand." 

The  inward  anxiety  and  fear  to  which  riches  give 
rise  are  sometimes  but  too  well  founded.  Riches  stir 
up  envy  :  envy  leads  to  calumny  and  slander,  and,  not 
unfrequently,  on  any  or  on  no  ground,  to  malicious  and 
harassing  prosecutions.  Riches  are  a  lure  to  thieves,  to 
robbers,  to  murderers ;  and  have  many  a  time  cost  the 
proprietor  his  life.  And  worst  of  all, — what  is,  more 
than  any  external  calamity,  even  than  death  itself,  "  to 
the  hurt"  of  him  whom  providence  allows  to  retain  them, 
Ee 


218  LECTURE  IX. 

they  hold  out  a  powerful,  and,  alas  !  in  many  instances, 
a  too  successful  temptation  to  their  owners,  to  forget 
God,  and  to  neglect  their  spiritual  and  everlasting  in- 
terests. They  thus  endanger  the  soul ;  they  put  eternity 
itself  in  jeopardy  ;  and  a  rise  in  the  world  has  too  often, 
alas  !  been  the  means  of  spiritual  declension,  apostasy, 
and  ruin.  "  They  that  will  be  rich  fall  into  temptation 
and  a  snare,  and  (into)  many  foolish  and  hurtful  lusts, 
which  drown  men  in  destruction  and  perdition.  For  the 
love  of  money  is  the  root  of  all  evil ;  which,  while  some 
coveted  after,  they  have  erred  from  the  faith,  and  pierced 
themselves  through  with  many  sorrows.  "  How  hardly 
shall  they  that  have  riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
God! — How  hard  is  it  for  them  that  trust  in  riches  to 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  !  It  is  easier  for  a  camel 
to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man 
to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God."* 

There  are  different  ways  in  which  riches  may  be 
"  kept,  for  the  hurt"  of  the  proprietors.  But  perhaps 
the  case  which  Solomon  had  chiefly  in  his  eye,  is  that 
of  a  son  and  heir,  for  whom,  as  their  destined  owner, 
the  riches  are  reserved ;  who  is  born  and  brought  up 
to  a  fortune  ;  to  whom  great  prospects  are  held  out ; 
who  is  bred  as  an  independent  gentleman,  undemeaned 
by  either  handicraft  or  mercantile  labour.  But  ^'  these 
riches,"  in  the  mysterious  providence  of  God,  "  perish 
by  evil  travail ;"  by  some  indiscreet  mismanagement, 
or  by  some  extravagant  and  over-greedy  speculation.: 
and  this  hopeful  son,  "  hath  nothing  in  his  hand  :"  he 
is  still  a  son,  but  no  longer  an  heir.  The  fortune  to 
which  he  trusted  is  gone  ;  and  all  the  prospective  vi- 
sions of  his  inflated  fancy  are  vanished  with  it.  Nothing 
could  well  be,  to  such  a  youth,  a  more  serious  injury 

*  1  Tim.  TJ.  9,  10,    Markx.  23—25.. 


ECCLES.  y.  8—20.  gi9 

From  his  education,  *'  he  cannot  dig,"  and  "  to  beg 
he  is  ashamed,"  Thus  riches  have  been  "  kept  for  him 
to  his  hurt :"  and  the  poor  inconsiderate  father  partakes 
of  the  misery,  being  fretted  by  unavailing  reflections, 
galled  by  the  disappointment  of  his  family  hopes,  and 
stung  to  the  quick  by  mortified  pride. 

6.  .  The  possession  of  riches  is,  at  the  very  longest ^ 
hounded  by  the  present  life  : — Verses  15,  16.  "  As  he 
came  forth  of  his  mother's  womb,  naked  shall  he  return 
to  go  as  he  came,  and  shall  take  nothing  of  his  labour, 
which  he  may  carry  away  in  his  hand.  And  this  also 
(is)  a  sore  evil,  (that)  in  all  points  as  he  came,  so  shall 
he  go  :  and  what  profit  hath  he  that  hath  laboured  for 
the  wind  ?" 

These  verses  indeed  may  be  taken  in  immediate  con- 
nection with  the  case  described  in  the  two  preceding. 
They  are  true,  however,  of  every  possessor  of  riches 
without  exception  :  and  il  is  not  the  first  time  that  this 
particular  view  of  their  vanity  has  been  brought  for- 
ward in  this  book.  The  man  above  described,  whose 
*'  riches  perish  by  evil  travail,"  came  helpless  into  the 
world,  and  he  leaves  it  destitute.  And  of  all  it  is  sadly 
true,  that  they  can  "  take  nothing  of  their  labour  which 
they  may  carry  away  in  their  hand."  This  is  one  of 
those  evident  truths  which  do  not  require  to  be  proved, 
but  to  be  impressed.  It  is  one  of  which  the  importance 
is  equal  to  the  plainness  and  simplicity  ;  for  it  is  not 
truths  that  are  abstruse  and  recondite,  that  are  in  ge- 
neral of  the  greatest  consequence,  or  that  draw  after 
them  the  weightiest  results.  That  "  we  brought  no- 
thing into  this  world,  and  it  is  certain  we  can  carry  no- 
thing out"  is  a  position  so  trite  and  plain,  that  to  ques- 
tion it  would  indicate  a  disturbed  intellect.  Yet  if  this 
simple  and  obvious  aphorism  were  universally  felt,  and 


220  LECTURE   IX. 

acted  upon  as  it  ought  to  be,  it  would  have  an  influence 
that  cannot  be  estimated  on  the  temporal  and  eternal 
interests  of  mankind. 

When  Job  said,  *'  Naked  came  I  out  of  my  mother's 
womb,  and  naked  shall  I  return  thither  :  the  Lord  gave, 
and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away  ;  blessed  be  the  name  of 
the  Lord!"— he  felt  and  expressed  the  same  affecting 
truth.  But  the  feelings  of  the  Patriarch  were  widely  dif- 
ferent indeed  from  those  of  Solomon's  disappointed  and 
mortified  worldling.  His  is  not,  like  Job's,  the  "  godly 
sorrow"  which  is  accompanied  and  tempered  with  re- 
signation to  the  will  of  heaven,  bearing  the  bereave- 
ment as  a  stroke  of  Divine  correction.  But  to  him  it 
is  "  a  sore  evil"  to  part  with  that  wealth  on  which  his 
heart  had  been  set ;  to  see  it  "  make  to  itself  wings  and 
fiy  away  from  him  as  an  eagle  towards  heaven  ;"  or  to 
leave  it  behind  him  when  the  summons  of  death  arrives. 
O  how  aflfecting  is  the  thought  of  such  a  man  !  how 
pitiable  seems  his  case  to  the  spiritual  mind  !— cling- 
ing to  the  world  to  the  very  last, — reluctant  to  quit  his 
hold  : — and  even  when  cold  in  death,  his  hand  remain- 
ing clinched  in  the  last  convulsive  grasp  with  which  he 
sought  to  retain  his  darling  treasures  ! 

Still,  however,  it  is  especially  of  the  man  whose  riches 
have  *'  perished  by  evil  travail"  that  Solomon  speaks ; 
and  respecting  him,  observe  what  follows  : — 

7.  His  remaining  days  on  earth  are  miserable,  and 
his  departure  from  the  world  fearful  .—Verse  17.  "  All 
his  days  also  he  eateth  in  darkness  ;  and  (he  hath)  much 
sorrow  and  wrath  with  his  sickness." 

Darkness  here  seems  to  signify  especially  two  things: 
— in  the  first  place,  the  dreary  cheerlessness  of  the  man's 
mind,  who  has  thus  lost  his  all,  and  whose  prospects 
have  been  so  unexpectedly  blasted ;  light  being,  in  all 


ECCLES.  V.  8 — 20.  2St 

languages,  a  figure  for  joy,  and  darkness  for  misery  :— 
and  secondly,  the  sad  neglect  into  which  the  poor  man 
falls.  The  friendship  of  the  world  was  friendship  to  his 
riches  rather  than  to  himself.  Whilst  these  remained 
with  him,  he  enjoyed  it ;  but  when  they  are  gone,  the 
bond  is  broken  :  he  loses  his  influence,  he  sinks  into 
neglect ;  and  the  man  who  before  gathered  crowds  to 
his  levee,  finds,  to  his  bitter  mortification,  that  to  be 
pennyless  is  to  be  friendless.  He  is  deserted,  solitary, 
forlorn  ;  and  all  his  remaining  days  he  "  eateth  in  dark- 
ness"— the  darkness  of  poverty  and  seclusion.  "  The 
light  is  dark  in  his  tabernacle." — -The  losses  which  he 
has  sustained,  and  these  galling  effects  of  them,  he  feels 
grievously.  They  lie  with  oppressive  weight  upon  his 
spirit.  In  the  "  sickness"  that  brings  him  to  the  grave, 
he  has  "  much  sorrow  and  wrath  :"— "  jorroi^,"  spring- 
ing from  irremediable  bereavement,  mortified  pride, 
disappointed  hopes,  and  the  ungrateful  requital  of  pre- 
tended friends  : — and  "  pierced  through  as  he  is  with 
many  sorrows,"  the  trials  which  have  occasioned  them 
are  unsanctified  ;  his  heart  is  still  worldly  ;  he  is  irri- 
tated, instead  of  being  subdued  and  submissive  ;  he  is 
agitated  by  "  wratli'''  against  men  for  their  base  and 
selfish  treatment  of  him,  and  by  inward  murmurings, 
rising  at  times  even  to  the  bitterness  of  rage  and  blas- 
phemy, against  the  providence  of  God  !— How  affecting, 
how  fearful  the  thought  of  such  a  close  of  life, — of  such 
an  entrance  into  eternity  !  It  makes  one's  heart  thrill 
with  horror. — O  how  earnestly  should  we  pray,  that 
God  in  his  providence  may  keep  us  from  exposure  to 
temptations,  and  that  by  his  grace,  he  may  preserve 
our  hearts  from  such  inordinate  attachment  to  a  present 
world ;  that  if  he  permits  us  to  prosper,  he  may  enable 
us  to  ''  rejoice  as  though  we  rejoiced  not ;"  and  if  he 


TZ22  LECTURE  IX. 

visits  us  with  reverses,  to  "  weep  as  though  we  wept 
not;"  and  ever  to  be,  "  when  we  buy  as  though  we 
possessed  not,  and  when  we  use  the  world  as  not  abus- 
ing it ;  because  the  fashion  of  it  passeth  away." 

The  chapter  concludes  with  a  description  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  temporal  bounties  of  Divine  provi- 
dence should  be  received  and  enjoyed  : — Verses  18 — 
20.  '^  Behold  (that)  which  I  have  seen  :  (it  is)  good 
and  comely  (for  one)  to  eat  and  to  drink,  and  to  enjoy 
the  good  of  all  his  labour  that  he  taketh  under  the  sun 
all  the  days  of  his  life,  which  God  giveth  him  ;  for  it 
(is)  his  portion.  Every  man  also  to  whom  God  hath 
given  riches  and  wealth,  and  hath  given  him  power  to  eat 
thereof,  and  to  take  his  portion,  and  to  rejoice  in  his 
labour;  this  (is)  the  gift  of  God.  For  he  shall  not  much 
remember  the  days  of  his  life  ;  because  God  answereth 
(him)  in  the  joy  of  his  heart." 

The  sentiment  of  these  verses  is  very  similar  to  what 
he  had  repeatedly  expressed  before.* — I  shall  refrain, 
therefore,  from  enlarging  in  the  illustration  of  them.-- 
The  expression  in  the  eighteenth  verse,  *^  This  is  his 
portion^^^  is  not,  by  any  means,  to  be  understood  in  the 
same  sense  as  when  it  is  said  of  the  ^'  men  of  the  world," 
that  they  "  have  their  portion  in  this  life."t  The  mean- 
ing is,  that  "  the  good  of  all  his  labour"  is  "  the  gift  of 
God,"  as  well  as  the  life  itself  in  which  the  acquisitions 
of  property  are  made  :  and  whatever,  through  the  Di- 
vine blessing  upon  his  labours,  he  acquires,  is  to  be 
looked  upon  as  given  him  to  be  enjoyed ;  the  God  who 
bestows  it,  allotting  to  every  individual  his  particular 
portion  of  earthly  good, — "  dividing  to  every  man  se- 
verally as  he  will."  And  the  manner  in  which  Solo- 
mon introduces  God  as  the  giver  both  of  life  and  of  its 

*  Chap.  i.  24—26.  iii.  12,  13,  22.  f  Psal.  svii.  14. 


ECCLES.  V.  8 — 20.  228 

enjoyments,  shows  us  how  they  ought  to  be  received, 
and  how  to  be  used  ;— surely,  in  a  way  consistent  with 
his  will,  and  conducive  to  his  glory.  It  can  neither  be 
"  good"  nor  **  comely"  to  enjoy  the  benefit,  and  to 
forget  the  Author  of  it ;  to  spend  the  "  portion"  which 
God  allots,  in  occupations,  and  for  purposes,  which 
God  abhors.  And  the  man  who,  in  his  moments  of 
dissolute  revelry,  quotes  Solomon  in  excuse  or  pallia- 
tion of  libertinism,  as  if  he  gave  his  sanction  to  the 
'^  lust  of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of 
life,"  either  has  not  thought  of  his  words  at  all,  or  has 
thought  of  them  with  most  pitiable  and  malignant  per» 
versity. 

In  contemplating  our  worldly  acquisitions,  we  are 
ever  in  danger  of  '^  burning  incense  to  our  own  net, 
and  offering  sacrifice  to  our  own  drag  ;"  of  taking  the 
credit,  that  is,  and  giving  the  praise,  to  ourselves. 
Against  this  danger,  Moses  warned  the  Israelites  ;  and 
we  need  the  warning  not  less  than  they  : — ''  Beware — 
lest,  (when)  thou  hast  eaten  and  art  full,  and  hast  built 
goodly  houses,  and  dwelt  (therein ;)  and  (when)  thy 
herds  and  thy  flocks  multiply,  and  thy  silver  and  thy 
gold  are  multiplied,  and  all  that  thou  hast  is  multiplied  ; 
then  thy  heart  be  lifted  up,  and  thou  forget  the  Lord 
thy  God, — and  say  in  thy  heart,  My  power,  and  the 
might  of  (my)  hand,  hath  gotten  me  this  wealth  :  but 
thou  shalt  remember  the  Lord  thy  God ;  for  he  (it  is) 
that  giveth  thee  power  to  get  wealth."*' — But  God  is 
not  only  the  bestower  of  whatever  a  man  is  enabled  to 
acquire  of  "  riches  and  wealth  ;''  but  he  is  further  re- 
presented here  as  giving  "  power  to  eat  thereof,  and  to 
take  his  portion,  and  to  rejoice  in  his  labour."  The 
ability,  power,  or  capacity,  of  enjoyment,  here  spoken 

*  Deut.viii.  12—14,  17.  18. 


224  LECTURE    IX. 

of,  may  be  considered  as  including  health  of  body, 
peace  and  tranquillity  of  mind,  and  such  a  provident 
tial  ordering  of  circumstances,  as  to  afford  full  oppor- 
tunity in  other  respects  ;  no  untoward  hinderance  com^ 
ing  between  the  possessor  and  the  free  and  unembar- 
rassed use  of  his  property.  This  too,  as  well  as  wealth 
itself,  Solomon  pronounces  to  be  "  the  gift  of  God;" 
and  he  immediately  contrasts,  it,  as  we  shall  see,  in  the 
beginning  of  the  next  chapter,  with  its  opposite  ;  with 
the  case  of  a  man  to  whom  God  gives  the  "  riches,  and 
wealth,  and  honour"  themselves,  but  withholds  the 
"  power  to  eat  thereof," — the  capacity  and  the  oppor- 
tunity of  enjoyment.  We  decline  farther  remarks  till 
we  come  to  this  contrast. 

The  general  meaning  of  the  twentieth  verse, — "  for 
he  shall  not  much  remember  the  days  of  his  life,  be- 
cause God  answereth  him  in  the  joy  of  his  heart,"— 
probably  is,  that  whereas,  to  the  discontented  and  the 
unhappy,  time  passes  slowly  and  heavily, — every  mi- 
nute is  numbered, — the  hours  are  tedious  and  irksome, 
—their  days  and  their  nights  are  alike  wearisome  ;-— 
to  the  man  above  described,  on  the  contrary,  the  man 
of  contentment,  and  cheerfulness,  and  piety,  who  en- 
joys a  healthy  body,  and  a  thankful,  dependent,  re 
signed,  and  happy  spirit,  who  enjoys  God  in  all  things, 
and  all  things  in  God, — to  him  the  time  passes  lightly 
and  pleasantly ;  the  hours  fly  over  him  "  on  angel 
wings;"  he  smiles  on  the  rising,  and  smiles  on  the 
setting  sun  ;  he  is  not  harassed  with  the  remembrance 
of  past  ills,  over  which  the  memory  of  the  discontented 
man  is  forever  brooding,  in  peevish  fretfulness  ;  nor  is 
he  disquieted  v/ith  careful  solicitude  about  the  future, 
but,  in  the  exercise  of  faith  in  God,  enjoys  to-day,  and 
leaves  to-morrow  "  to  take  care  for  the  things  of  it- 


ECCLES.  V.  8 — 20.  2S5 

self. "—The   man  whose  desires  God  thus  answereth 
giving  him  ^*  joy  of  heart"  in  his  labours  and  in  the 
"  portion"   arising  from  their  success,  goes  through 
the  world  with  as  large  a  measure  of  happiness  as  caa 
well  be  furnished  in  it,    *'  The  days  of  his  life  he  does 
not  much  remember,"  because  they  are  not  marked 
for  future  recollections  by  those  calamities  and  suffer- 
ings, of  which  the  memory  (alas  !   for  the  selfishness 
and  ingratitude  of  men !)  is  in  general  so  much  more 
tenacious  than  it  is  of  past  enjoyments.     His  life  is  a 
•'  river  of  pleasures,"   to  which  his  recollections  and 
his   anticipations,  as  well  as  his  present  blessings,  are 
all  so  many  tributary  streams.     Abundant  cause  has 
such  a  man  for  heart-felt  ascriptions  of  praise,  both  to 
the  God  of  providence,  and  to  the  "  God  of  all  grace." 
To  expatiate  in  practically  improving  this  passage 
would  lead  to  unavoidable  repetition. — I  shall  only  ob- 
serve, in  the  Jirst  place,  the  propriety  and  the  duty  of 
keeping  continually  in  mind  that  "  He  that  is  higher 
than  the  highest  regardeth"   every  step  of  our  proce- 
dure through  life  ;— that  his  eye  is  unceasingly  upon 
us ;  that  he  marks  every  thought,  every  look,  every 
word,  every  action  ;  that  he  ''  compasses  our  sitting 
down  and  our  rising  up,  and  is  acquainted  with  all  our 
ways."  Forget  not  this,  ye  children  of  God  : — *'  There 
is  no  creature  that  is  not  manifest  in  his  sight ;  but  all 
things  are  naked  and  opened  unto  the  eyes  of  Him  with 
whom  we  have  to  do:" — and  let  the  remembrance  of 
it  be  a  powerful  and  prevalent  restraint  upon  all  evil. 
*'  Stand  in  awe,  and  sin  not." — In  a  particular  manner, 
let  whatever  power,  authority,  and  influence  you  pos- 
sess, be  uniformly  exercised  in  justice  and  in  mercy. 
"Just  and  true  are  all  the  ways  of  the  King  of  saints." 
He  is  "  the  righteous  God,  and  he  loveth  righteous- 
Ff 


226  LECTURE  IX. 

ness."  And  often  does  he  express  a  peculiar  regard  to 
the  rights  of  the  poor,  and  a  watchful  and  indignant 
jealousy  of  their  infringement.  The  Lord  Jesus,  the 
King  of  Zion,  has  "  chosen  the  poor  of  this  world,  rich 
in  faith,  and  heirs  of  his  kingdom."  They  constitute 
a  large  proportion  of  his  subjects.  "  He  shall  judge  the 
poor  of  the  people,  he  shall  save  the  children  of  the 
needy,  and  shall  break  in  pieces  the  oppressor.  He 
shall  deliver  the  needy  when  he  crieth,  the  poor  also, 
and  him  that  hath  no  helper.  He  shall  spare  the  poor 
and  needy,  and  shall  save  the  souls  of  the  needj'".  He 
shall  redeem  their  souls  from  deceit  and  violence  ;  and 
precious  shall  their  blood  be  in  his  sight." — Let  us, 
then,  my  Christian  brethren,  beware  of  "despising  the 
poor."  And  especially,  when  in  the  church  we  are 
called  to  the  exercise  of  judgment  between  brother  and 
brother,  let  us  be  on  our  guard  against  all  "  respect  of 
persons," — all  partiality,  all  favouritism  on  the  one 
hand,  and  oppression  on  the  other.  It  is  not  of  the 
mere  practice  of  courtesy  in  places  of  worship,  but  of 
the  exercise  of  judgment  in  the  meetings  of  the  church, 
regarding  matters  of  controversy  between  the  rich  and 
the  poor,  that  the  apostle  James  speaks,  when  he  gives 
us,  as  he  gave  others  of  old,  the  following  important 
directions  :^"  My  brethren,  have  not  the  faith  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  (the  Lord)  of  glory,  with  respect 
of  persons.  For,  if  there  come  into  your  assembly  a 
man  with  a  gold  ring,  in  goodly  apparel,  and  there  come 
in  also  a  poor  man  in  vile  raiment ;  and  ye  have  respect 
to  him  that  weareth  the  gay  clothing,  and  say  unto 
him,  Sit  thou  here  in  a  good  place  ;  and  say  to  the  poor, 
Stand  thou  there,  or  sit  here  under  my  footstool :  arc 
ye  not  then  partial  in  yourselves,  and  are  become  judges 
of  evil  thoughts?  Hearken,  my  beloved  brethren,  Hath 


ECCLES.  V.  8 30.  §27 

not  God  chosen  the  poor  of  this  world  rich  in  faith, 
and  heirs  of  the  kingdoin  which  he  hath  promised  to 
them  that  love  him  ?  but  ye  have  despised  the  poor. 
Do  not  rich  men  oppress  you,  and  draw  you  before  the 
judgment-seats  ?  Do  not  they  blaspheme  that  worthy 
name  by  the  which  ye  are  called  ?  If  ye  fulfil  the  royal 
law  according  to  the  Scripture,  Thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbour  as  thyself,  ye  do  well :  but  if  ye  have  respect 
to  persons,  ye  commit  sin,  and  are  convicted  of  the 
law  as  transgressors.  For  whosoever  shall  keep  the 
whole  law,  and  yet  offend  in  one  (point,)  he  is  guilty  of 
all.  For  he  that  said,  Do  not  commit  adultery,  said 
also.  Do  not  kill.  Now,  if  thou  commit  no  adultery, 
yet  if  thou  kill,  thou  art  become  a  transgressor  of  the 
law.  So  speak  ye,  and  so  do,  as  they  that  shall  be 
judged  by  the  law.  of  liberty.  For  he  shall  have  judg- 
ment without  mercy  that  hath  showed  no  mercy ;  and 
mercy  rejoiceth  against  judgment."* 

In  the  second  place.  Let  the  minds  of  all,  and  espe^ 
cially  of  "the  brethren  of  low  degree,"  be  impressed, 
from  the  consideration  of  this  passage,  with  such  de- 
clarations as  these  : —  "  A  little  that  a  righteous  man 
hath,  is  better  than  the  riches  of  many  wicked  :" — . 
'*  Better  is  little  with  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  than  great 
treasure  and  trouble  therewith  :"— «  Godliness  with 
contentment  is  great  gain.  For  we  brought  nothing 
into  this  world ;  and  it  is  certain,  we  can  carry  nothing 
out.  And  having  food  and  raiment,  let  us  be  therewith 
content."  True  happiness  depends  not,  as  we  have  seen, 
on  situation.  In  as  far  indeed  as  the  real  and  substan- 
tial comfort  of  different  situations  is  concerned,  hap- 
piness  is  much  more  equally  diffused  than,  on  a  hasty 
and  superficial  survey  of  mankind,  we  might  be  ready 

♦  Jam.  ii.  1 — 13. 


338  1.ECTURE  IX. 

to  conclude.  Every  situation  has  its  peculiar  cares, 
disappointments,  deficiencies,  anditrials.  No  earthly 
condition  brings  with  it  unalloyed  satisfaction:  and 
frequently  the  alloy  is  most  abundant  where  we  should 
hardly  expect  it  to  be  found.  The  great  and  steady 
source  of  peace  and  joy  is  true  religion  ; — that  state  of 
mind  in  which  a  man  "  sets  the  Lord  continually  be- 
fore him ;"  traces  all  events  to  his  providence  ;  acknow- 
ledges him  in  all  his  ways ;  makes  him  the  supreme 
portion  of  his  soul ;  follows  his  will ;  submits  to  his 
appointments  ;  seeks  his  glory,  and  delights  in  his  love. 
This  makes  every  condition  happy,  every  station  ho- 
nourable.—He  is  truly  rich  who  is  '^  rich  towards  God." 
Every  one  else,  though  crowned  with  gold  and  dia- 
monds, "  clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen,  and  faring 
sumptuously  every  day,"  is  "  poor,  and  miserable,  and 
wretched,  and  blind,  and  naked."— True  religion,  a  life 
of  faith  and  love,  and  active  devotedness  to  God,  is  ac- 
companied with  a  sweet  and  cheering  sense  of  his  pa- 
ternal favour,  amidst  ail  the  vicissitudes  of  life.  And 
this  alone  can  impart  peace  and  hope  to  the  soul,  when 
it  is  lingering  on  the  verge  of  time,  and  just  about  to 
quit  the  world,  and  enter  on  eternity.  It  is  only  leav- 
ing the  paltry,  and  perishing  possessions  of  earth,  for 
the  full  enjoyment  of  the  "  better  and  more  enduring 
substance,"  so  long  anticipated  as  the  object  of  hope 
and  desire ; — the  "  inheritance  that  is  incorruptible,  un- 
defiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away."—"  I  have  fought  a 
good  fight  j  I  have  finished  (my)  course  ;  I  have  kept 
the  faith.  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown 
of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the  righteous  Judge, 
shall  give  to  me  at  that  day  ;  and  not  to  me  only,  but  to 
all  them  also  that  love  his  appearing." 

In  the  last  place.  Let  this  passage  recommend  to  all, 


ECCLES.  V.  8 — 20.  g29 

the  authoritative  and  kind  and  salutary  admonition  of 
the  merciful  Redeemer  : — "  Labour  not  for  the  meat 
that  perisheth,  but  for  that  meat  which  endureth  unto 
everlasting  life,  which  the  Son  of  man  will  give  you  ; 
for  him  hath  God  the  Father  sealed."  He  is  himself  the 
bread  of  life  ;— bread,  of  which  whosoever  eateth  shall 
live  for  ever.  And  every  man  that  would  have  the  life 
must  eat  of  the  bread.  It  is  the  only  food  of  the  soul. 
It  is  for  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor  together.  *'  The 
king  himself"  must  be  ."served  of  the"  gospel  ^^  field." 
And  all  are  invited  to  partake  of  this  heavenly  provision. 
"  Spend  no  longer  your  money  for  (that  which  is)  not 
bread,  and  your  labour  for  (that  which)  satisfieth  not. 
Hearken  to  the  voice  of  God,  and  eat  ye  (that  which 
is)  good.  Come  ye,  buy  and  eat,  yea  come,  buy  wine 
and  milk  without  money  and  without  price."  "  The 
Spirit  and  the  Bride  say,  Come ;  and  let  him  that 
heareth  say,  Come ;  and  whosoever  will,  let  him  take 
of  the  water  of  life  freely." — Obey  the  gracious  invi- 
tations :  and  then  indeed  you  "  shall  not  much  remem- 
ber the  days  of  your  life."  The  load  of  self-accusing 
reflection  and  of  anxious  anticipation  will  be  lifted  from 
your  spirit.  You  will  commence  a  career  of  new  and 
unknown  felicity.  God  will  "  answer  you  in  the  joy 
of  your  heart."  "  While  many  say,  Who  will  show  us 
any  good?  he  will  lift  upon  you  the  light  of  his  coun- 
tenance ;"  and  this  will  "  put  a  gladness  into  your 
heart,"  such  as  you  never  experienced,  even  "  when 
your  corn  and  your  wine  increased,"  You  will  "  go  on 
your  way  rejoicing  ;"  "  counting  all  things  but  loss  for 
the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ ;"  assured 
that  "nothing  shall  separate  you  from  the  love  of  God ;" 
**  forgetting  the  things  that  are  behind,  and  reaching 
forth  unto  those  things  which  are  before,  and  pressing 


2B0  LECTURE  IX.    ECCLES.  V.   8 20, 

toward  the  mark,  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of 
Go(d  in  Christ  Jesus."  And  when  you  shall  have  reach- 
ed your  eternal  home,  "  the  land  of  sacred  liberty  and 
endless  rest,"  "  the  former  things  shall  no  more  be  re- 
membered  nor  come  into  mind,"  except  to  give  zest 
to  the  pleasures,  ever  new  and  ever  growing,  of  that 
holy  and  happy  place,  where  "  God  shall  wipe  away 
all  tears  from  your  eyes," 


LECTURE  X. 


ECCLES.  vi.  1  — 13. 

1  "  There  is  an  evil  which  I  have  seen  under  the  sun,  and  it  fiaj  eom- 

2  mon  amovg  men  :  A  man  to  whom  God  hath  given  riches,  wealthy 
and  honour,  so  that  he  wantfth  nothing/or  his  soul  oj" all  that  hede- 
sireth,  yet  God  giveth  him  not  power  to  eat  thereof,  but  a  stranger 

3  eatcth  it :  this  (is)  vanity,  and  it  (is J  an  evil  disease.  If  a  man 
beget  a  hundred  (children,)  and  live  many  years,  so  that  the  days 
of  his  years  be  many,  and  his  soul  be  notflltd  with  good,  and  also 
(that J  he  have  no  burial ;  I  say,  (that J  an  iintimely  birth  (is J 

4  better  than  he  :  For  he  cometh  in  with  vanity,  and  deftarteth  in  dark- 

5  ness,  and  his  name  shall  be  covered  with  darkness.  Moreover,  he 
hath  not  seen  the  sun,  nor  known  (any  thing :  J  this  hath  more  rest 

6  than  the  other.    Yea,  though  he  live  a  thousand  years  twice  (told,) 

7  yet  hath  he  seen  no  good  :  do  not  all  go  to  one  filace  ?  All  the  labour 

8  of  man  (is)  for  his  mouth,  and  yet  the  appetite  is  not  filled.  For 
what  hath  the  wise  more  than  the  fool?  what  hath  the  poor,  that 

9  knoweth  to  walk  before  the  living  ?  Better  (is)  the  sight  of  the  eyes 
than  the  wandering  of  the  desire:  this  (is)  also  vanity  and  vexation 

10  of  spirit.  That  which  hath  been  is  named  already,  and  it  is  known 
that  it  (is)  man :  neither  may  he  contend  with  him  that  is  mightier 

1 1  than  he.  Seeing  there  be  many  things  that  increase  vanity,  what  (is) 

12  man  the  better?  For  who  knoweth  what  (is  J  good  for  man  in 
(this)  life,  all  the  days  of  his  vain  life  which  he  spendeth  as  a 
shadow  ?  for  who  can  tell  a  man  what  shall  be  after  him  under  the 


XHE  case  described  in  the  beginning  of  this  chapter 
forms  an  intended  contrast,  as  1  formerly  noticed,  to 
the  one  mentioned  in  the  close  of  the  fifth.  In  that  case, 
the  possession  of  wealth  and  its  attendant  blessings  was 
happily  associated  with  the  capacity  of  enjoyment,  or 
what  the  wise  man  denominates  *'  power  to  eat  thereof." 
In  the  case  which  he  now  states,  the  wealth  is  supposed 
to  be  bestowed,  but  the  capacity  of  enjoyment  with- 


33S  LECTURE  X. 

held  : — Verses  1,  2.  **  There  is  an  evil  which  I  have 
seen  under  the  sun,  and  it  (is)  common  among  men:  a 
man  to  whom  God  hath  given  riches,  wealth,  and  ho. 
nour,  so  that  he  wanteth  nothing  for  his  soul  of  all  that 
he  desireth;  yet  God  giveth  him  not  power  to  eat 
thereof,  but  a  stranger  eateth  it :  this  (is)  vanity,  and  it 
(is)  an  evil  disease." 

This  evil  was  common,  it  should  seem,  in  the  days 
of  Solomon ;  and  we  are  far  from  being  without  in- 
stances of  it  in  our  own.  Human  nature  being  in  every 
age  the  same,  we  may  expect  it,  with  the  exception  of 
the  changes  which  the  varying  state  of  society  and  of 
manners  necessarily  produces,  to  exhibit  in  general  the 
same  appearances. — "  There  is  a  man  to  whom  God 
hath  given  riches," — abundant  pecuniary  treasures ; — ■ 
*'  and  wealth," — an  estate,  it  may  be,  in  land,  with  nu- 
merous flocks  and  herds, — sheep  and  oxen, — camels 
and  asses;—"  and  honour,"— the  external  splendour  of 
riches  attracting  public  admiration,  and  the  weight  and 
influence  which,  in  every  country,  are  associated  with 
wealth. 

But,  alas !  with  all  this  bounty,  "  God  giveth  him  not 
power  to  eat  thereof."  Although  all  his  schemes  of 
emolument  have  prospered ;  his  riches  have  flowed  in 
upon  him,  so  that  "  he  wanteth  nothing  for  his  soul  of 
all  that  he  desireth,"— all  his  wishes,  in  regard  to  the 
object  on  which  his  heart  was  set,  having  been  fully 
realized :  yet  some  untoward  occurrence,  some  insupe- 
rable obstacle,  comes  between  him  and  the  enjoyment 
of  his  possessions,  depriving  him  of  the  opportunity,  or 
of  the  capacity,  of  availing  himself  at  all  of  his  over- 
flowing resources  of  earthly  greatness  and  felicity.  His 
body,  for  example,  may  be  afilicted  by  painful  or  ex- 
hausting sickness,  by  which  every  thing  the  world  can 


ECCLES.  VI.  1  — 12.  233 

furnish  is  bereft  of  its  relish,  so  that  "he  never  eateth 
with  pleasure  ;"  and  all  his  riches  and  wealth  cannot 
arrest  the  progress  of  his  malady  ;  cannot  impart  a  mo- 
ment's ease,  or  give  efficacy  to  a  single  medicine  :  or  a 
series  of  heavy  domestic  afflictions  may  so  prey  upoa 
his  spirit,  as  to  render  all  his  honours  and  all  his  plea- 
sures vapid  and  irksome ;  so  that  to  remind  him  of  them 
is  only  to  deepen  his  gloom  by  making  him  feel  anew 
their  tastelessness;  it  is  singing  songs  to  a  heavy  heart;" 
it  is  but  embittering  the  reflection, 

"  How  ill  the  scenes  that  offer  rest, 
And  heart  that  canuot  rest,  agree." 

Instances  of  such  a  nature  are,  alas!  far  from  being  rare : 
and  they  are  not  less  humbling  to  our  self-dependent 
pride,  then  they  are  affecting  to  our  feelings  of  sym- 
pathy. 

"  A  stranger  eateth  it."  A  self-interested,  artful  man, 
taking  advantage  of  circumstances,  insinuates  himself 
into  the  good  graces  of  the  proprietor ;  lives  upon  the 
fat  of  his  estate ;  secretly  wastes  his  substance  in  the 
advancement  of  his  own  projects ;  and  perhaps  draws 
the  whole  into  his  hand  at  the  owner's  death:— or,  in 
one  or  other  of  a  variety  of  imaginable  ways,  it  falls, 
in  the  providence  of  God,  into  the  possession  of  a 
stranger.  This  is  severely  mortifying.  It  is  a  picture 
of  the  vanity  of  the  world.  And  it  is  "  an  evil  disease ;" 
the  very  idea  of  having  the  means  of  enjoyment  in  the 
most  profuse  abundance,  and  yet  being  excluded  from 
the  capacity  of  using  them,  being  in  itself  enough  to 
prey  upon  the  spirits,  to  sink  them  to  the  dust,  to  pro- 
duce mental  malady,  and  to  increase  and  hasten  forward 
that  of  the  bodily  frame. 

I  am  aware,  that  by  son^e  the  character  here  described 
Og 


334  LECTURE  X. 

is  understood  to  be  that  of  tJie  miser ;  and  the  want  of 
"  power  to  eat  thereof"  to  mean  the  want  of  disposition, 
or  the  absolute  unwillingness,  which  forms  the  strange 
distinction  of  this  anomalous  and  pitiable  being,  to 
make  any  use  of  his  possessions,  to  take  any  enjoy- 
ment of  them.  Andj  no  doubt,  this  is  well  named  "  aa 
evil  disease."  It  is  a  wasting  distemper  of  the  soul,  par- 
taking alike  of  aberration  of  intellect  and  perversity  of 
heart.  But  the  character  of  the  miser  was  very  particu- 
larly delineated  before,— in  the  seventh  and  eighth 
verses  of  the  fourth  chapter ;  and  it  appears,  therefore, 
not  unreasonable,  to  understand  the  passage  before  us 
rather  as  setting  forth  a  new  case. 

On  this  case  he  enlarges  in  the  following  verses;  in- 
troducing into  it  additional  particulars,  for  the  sake  of 
giving  the  greater  force  and  vividness  to  the  impression 
of  it  upon  the  mind  :— Verses  3—6.  *'  If  a  man  beget 
a  hundred  (children,)  and  live  many  years,  so  that  the 
days  of  his  years  be  many,  and  his  soul  be  not  filled 
with  good,  and  also  (that)  he  have  no  burial ;  I  say, 
(that)  an  untimely  birth  (is)  better  than  he.  For  he 
cometh  in  with  vanity,  and  departeth  with  darkness, 
and  his  name  shall  be  covered  with  darkness.  Moreover, 
he  hath  not  seen  the  sun,  nor  known  (any  thing:)  this 
hath  more  rest  than  the  other.  Yea,  though  he  live  a 
thousand  years  twice  (told,)  yet  hath  he  seen  no  good. 
Do  not  all  go  to  one  place  ?" 

The  case  here  is  still  that  of  a  man  of  wealth,  and 
riches,  and  honour.   But  to  these  are  superadded  : — 

In  the  first  place ^  A  numerous  family  of  children  and 
grandchildren ;— a  matter  of  fond  desire,  and  of  high 
honour,  amongst  the  Hebrews ;  as  you  may  be  satisfied 
by  simply  recollecting  how  frequently  the  number  of  a 
man*s  immediate  descendants  is  particularized  in  the 


ECCLE&.  VI.  1 — 12.  235 

account  given  of  him  in  the  Scripture  history.-— Sup- 
pose him,  then,  to  have  ever  so  many, — "  a  hundred 
children :" — 

Secondly,  Long  life  :— an  object  of  desire,  not  to  the 
Hebrews  merely,  but  to  mankind  in  general ;  of  one  of 
the  strong  instinctive  wishes  of  our  nature.  Every  man 
desires,  and  every  man  hopes,  to  live  long  upon  the 
earth  :  and  Satan  spoke  no  more  than  truth  when  he 
said,  *'  All  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his  life." 
All  goes  overboard  v/hen  it  is  in  jeopardy. — Well: 
suppose  him  to  "live  many  years,  so  that  the  days  of 
his  years  be  many."  Let  him  complete,  nay,  let  him 
far  exceed,  the  ordinary  limit  of  the  life  of  man. 

The  supposition  then  is,  that  even  with  these  addi- 
tions to  his  wealth  and  honour,  "  his  soul  is  not  filled 
with  good;"  all  the  while,  that  is,  he  has  had  no  capa- 
city of  enjoying  his  riches,  and  family,  and  life ;  for  the 
expression  seems  to  be  evidently  equivalent  to  that  ia 
the  second  verse  not  having  "power  to  eat"  of  the  sub- 
stance God  hath  given  him : — all  the  days  of  his  pro- 
tracted time  he  has  "  eaten  in  darkness"  and  in  bitter- 
ness  of  spirit.  And  when  he  comes  to  die,  and  to  num- 
ber the  last  of  his  "  many  days"  he  *'  has  no  burial;" 
no  respect  and  honour  in  his  death ;  no  interment  cor- 
responding to  his  wealth,  and  consequence,  and  station. 
— Many  are  the  ways  in  which  we  may  imagine  this  to 
happen.  The  "stranger"  who  has  deluded  him  by  his 
ingratiating  arts,  outwitted  his  heirs,  and  got  possession 
of  his  property,  having  had  no  object  but  this  in  view, 
having  been  influenced  by  considerations  entirely  selfish, 
now  that  his  end  is  gained,  may  care  little  about  the 
honourable  obsequies  of  the  man,  of  whom  he  has  got 
all  that  he  wanted.  He  who  courted  and  flattered  the 
living,  may  thus  neglect  and  spurn  the  dead.  ~-Or  even 


236  LECTURE  X. 

his  children  themselves  may  have  felt  and  acted  towards 
hitn  in  a  similar  manner;  loving  the  money  more  than 
the  man ;  wearying  for  the  old  fellow's  departure  ;  glad 
to  have  him  out  of  the  way,  and  with  bare  decency  to 
f  prost  iiim  into  his  grave,— that  they  may  part  amongst 
them  his  treasures.— Such  things  may  take  place,  with- 
out supposing  the  character  described  an  utterly  sordid 
miser. 

Causes  of  a  very  different  kind  may  also  prevent  a 
man  from  "  having  burial."  He  may  die  amongst  stran- 
gers, in  a  foreign  clime  ;  he  may  be  cast  away  at  sea ; 
or  he  may  perish  on  land,  in  circumstances  that  pre- 
clude even  his  countrymen  and  friends  from  doing  him 
honour  at  his  death,  by  the  regular  rites  of  sepulture. 
But  the  strong  language  used  by  Solomon,  shows  that 
he  meant  som.ething  more  than  the  mere  accidental  ab- 
sence of  the  funeral  solemnity.  It  is  his  not  receiving 
what  he  might  and  ought  to  receive.  The  man  is  re- 
presented as  living  without  enjoyment,  and  dying  with- 
out  hojwur: — his  life  resembling  the  f\ibled  punishment 
of  Tantalus,  in  the  heathen  mythology,  from  whose  lips, 
ever  burning  with  unquenchable  thirst,  the  cooling 
stream  receded  ere  they  could  touch  it,  and  over 
whose  head  hung  the  most  delicious  fruits,  which 
mocked  every  effort  to  reach  them,  that  he  might  sa- 
tisfy his  longing  appetite; — and  his  death,  notwith- 
standing  all  his  wealth,  being  obscure  and  ignoble,  un- 
felt  and  unlamented. 

Such  is  the  case  supposed  :  the  verdict  pronounced 
upon  it  is,  "  I  say,  that  an  untimely  birth  is  better  than 
he:"  and  the  reasons  of  the  verdict  follow,  in  verses 
4—6.  "  For  he  cometh  in  with  vanity,  and  dcparteth 
in  darkness,  and  his  name  shall  be  covered  with  dark- 
ness.   Moreover,  he  hath  not  seen  the  sun,  nor  known 


ECCLES.  yi.  1 — 12.  237 

(any  thing:)  this  hath  more  rest  than  the  other.  Yea, 
though  he  live  a  thousand  years  twice  (told,)  yet  hath 
he  seen  no  good  :  Do  not  all  go  to  one  place  ?" 

Most  commentators  understand  the  fourth  verse  as 
referring  to  the  abortion ;  and,  consistently  with  this 
view  of  its  subject,  translate  it — "  although  it  gometh  in 
with  vanity  and  departeth  in  darkness,  and  its  name 
shall  be  covered  with  darkness." — But  this  seems  to 
me  very  unnatural.  "  An  untimely  birth"  can  hardly 
with  any  propriety  be  spoken  of  as  coming  in  and  de- 
parting at  all,  inasmuch  as  it  is  never  numbered- 
amongst  the  living,  nor  has  any  place  in  the  society  or 
the  habitations  of  men.  And  what  is  the  name  of  an 
abortion  ?  or,  what  sense  is  there  in  speaking  of  its 
name  as  *'  covered  with  darkness,"  when  the  thing  it- 
self has  never  seen  the  light,  and  its  very  existence  has 
been  unknown  ? — I  understand  the  verse,  therefore,  of 
the  man  described  in  the  preceding  context,  and  as  as- 
signing Solomon's  reason  for  giving  the  preference  to 
"an  untimely  birth."  The  man  '^cometh  in"  to  the 
world  "  with  vanity."  He  not  only  enters  on  a  life 
which  at  the  best  is  vain,  uncertain,  unsatisfying,  and 
transitory  ;  but  even,  as  to  this  life,  having  "  seen  no 
good"  in  his  passage  through  it,  he  seems,  as  far  as  he 
himself  is  concerned,  to  have  been  born  to  no  purpose^ 
—far  no  end  or  use, — in  vain.  He  goes  through  the 
period  of  his  earthly  existence,  a  mere  passive  exem- 
plication  of  the  utter  vanity  of  expecting  sure  and  solid 
happiness  from  the  present  world ;  and  then  he  "  de- 
parts  in  darkness,"  without  the  light  either  of  comfort 
or  of  honour  ;— his  name  is  "  covered  with  darkness  ;" 
he  is  immediately  forgotten ;  no  sooner  out  of  sight, 
than  out  of  mind. 

The  fifth  verse,  however,  is  evidently  spoken  of  the 


^aS  liECTURE  X. 

abortion  : — *'  Moreover,  he  hath  not  seen  the  sun,  nor 
known  (any  thing :)  this  hath  more  rest  than  the  other." 
"^ — It  is  true,  that  an  untimely  birth  has  had  no  enjoy- 
ment ;  but  neither  has  it  had  suffering  ;  or,  supposing 
it  to  have  had  life  when  born,  its  suffering  has  been  but 
momentary  ;  and  it  is  with  the  condition  of  the  man 
who  has  been  troubled  and  tantalized  through  life,  and 
unhonoured  and  unlamented  in  death,  that  its  destiny  is 
compared.  The  comparison  regards  the  absence  of  suf- 
fering, rather  than  the  proportions  of  positive  enjoy- 
.nient: — "This  hath  more  rest  than  the  other;"  or, 
"this  hath  rest  rather  than  the  other;"  which,  in  the 
present  case,  is  much  the  same  in  real  amount  with — 
"  this  hath  rest,  and  not  the  other."  The  rest  of  the 
grave  is  meant ;  where  the  untimely  birth  is  imme- 
diately laid.  It  has  not  "  seen  the  sun"  indeed,  or  en- 
joyed the  cheering  light  of  heaven.  But  what  is  the 
cheering  light  of  heaven  to  the  man  whose  eye  it  gives 
•'  to  see  no  good  ?" — to  whom  it  only  discloses,  day 
after  day,  the  same  dreary  scenes  of  wo  ?  The  abortion 
has  the  advantage,  in  *'  not  having  known  any  thing ;" 
for  it  is  better  to  know  nothing  at  all,  than  to  know  no- 
thing but  trouble.  It  is  laid  in  the  grave,  without  having 
tasted  the  miseries  of  human  life  ;  in  the  grave,  where, 
amid  the  silence  and  solitude  of  death,  the  cares  and 
disappointments,  the  disquietudes,  and  mortifications, 
and  distresses,  of  this  world,  are  neither  felt  nor 
dreamed  of.  It  would  have  been  better,  in  Solomon's 
judgment,  for  the  unhappy  being  he  had  depicted,  to 
have  been  carried  from  the  womb  to  the  grave."  Such 
%vas  the  wish  of  Job  when,  overwhelmed  with  accumu- 
lated sufferings,  he  "  opened  his  mouth,  and  cursed  his 
day  :" — "  Why  died  I  not  from  the  womb  ?  (why)  did 
I  (not)  give  up  tiie  ghost  when  I  came  out  of  the  belly  ? 


ECCLES.  VI.   1 — "13.  S39 

why  did  the  knees  prevent  me  ?  or  why  the  breasts  that 
I  should  suck  ?  For  now  should  I  have  lain  still,  and 
been  quiet ;  I  should  have  slept ;  then  had  I  been  at 
rest,  with  kings,  and  counsellors,  and  princes  :  or  as  a 
hidden  untimely  birth,  I  had  not  been  ;  as  infants  which 
never  saw  light.  There  the  wicked  cease  from  trou- 
bling ;  and  there  the  weary  be  at  rest.  The  prisoners 
rest  together ;  they  hear  not  the  voice  of  the  oppressor. 
The  small  and  great  are  there,  and  the  servant  is  free 
from  his  master.  Wherefore  is  light  given  to  him  that 
is  in  misery,  and  life  unto  the  bitter  in  soul ;  who  long 
for  death,  but  it  cometh  not ;  and  dig  for  it  more  than 
for  hid  treasures ;  who  rejoice  exceedingly,  and  are  glad 
when  they  can  find  the  grave?"* 

These  words  of  bitter  complaining  from  the  lips  of 
the  afflicted  Patriarch  serve  further  to  illustrate  the  fol- 
lowing verse :  "  Yea,  though  he  live  a  thousand  years 
twice  (told,)  yet  hath  he  seen  no  good :  do  not  all  go  to 
one  place  ?" — Suppose  the  life  of  this  hapless  being, 
who  is  surrounded  with  means  of  enjoyment  which  he 
cannot  use,  w^ere  prolonged  to  more  than  double  the 
length  of  the  longest  life  ever  spent  upon  earth, — yet,  if 
he  "  sees  no  good"  from  its  commencement  to  its  close^ 
and  then  *'  goes  to  one  place"  with  the  abortion— even 
to  the  grave,  the  place  of  perfect  equality,  the  common 
receptacle  of  corruption,  the  "  end  of  all  flesh;"  is  not 
the  verdict  pronounced  in  the  third  verse  founded  in 
truth—"  I  say  (that)  an  untimely  birth  (is)  better  than 
he  ?"  Nothing  can  be  more  preposterous,  than  to  attach 
value  to  existence,  apart  from  enjoyment ;  as  if  it  were 
better  to  be^  even  although  in  misery,  than  not  to  be  at 
all.  The  measure  of  the  value  of  existence  is  simply 
the  quantum  of  good  that  is  enjoyed  in  it.    When  we 

♦  Job.iii,  11—22. 


34*0  LECTURE    X. 

speak  of  the  cessation  of  being,  we  find  it  difficult  to 
divest  ourselves  of  the  impressjon  of  a  kind  of  dreary 
consciousness  of  non-existence  as  accompanying  it. 
We  fancy  ourselves  continuing  to  be,  and  yet  sensible 
that  we  are  not.  I  need  not  say  that  such  feelings  are 
entirely  illusory.  The  cessation  of  existence  being  the 
cessation  of  all  consciousness,  he  who  ceases  to  be,  is 
as  if  he  never  had  been.  And  he  who  has  not  entered 
on  life  at  all,  or  who  has  entered  on  it  one  moment, 
only  to  quit  it  the  next,  has  a  preferable  lot  to  that  of 
him  who  has  lived  long,  but  lived  only  to  suffer. 

In  the  seventh  and  eighth  verses,  we  have  a  further 
illustration  of  the  little  advantage,  as  to  the  things  of 
time  possessed  by  one  man  above  another:—"  All  the 
labour  of  man  (is)  for  his  mouth  ;  and  yet  the  appetite 
is  not  filled :  for  what  hath  the  wise  more  than  the  fool  ? 
what  hath  the  poor,  that  knoweth  to  walk  before  the 
living?" 

"  All  the  labour  of  man  is  for  his  mouth  ;"  that  is, 
the  direct  and  leading  end  of  all  human  toil,  of  every 
occupation  of  men,  in  all  the  departments  of  society,  is 
the  support  of  life.  This  is  first ;  and  every  thing  else 
is  subordinate  to  it.  It  is  obviously  the  most  important 
result  of  human  effort  in  all  the  businesses  of  life  ;  one 
to  which  every  other  will  be  readily  sacrificed ;  one 
without  which  no  other  could  be  enjoyed.  This  was 
the  object  assigned  to  the  labour  of  man,  when  the 
ground  had  been  cursed  on  account  of  his  sin:— - 
"  Cursed  (is)  the  ground  for  thy  sake ;  in  sorrow  shalt 
thou  eat  (of)  it  all  the  days  of  thy  life  :  thorns  also  and 
thistles  shall  it  bring  forth  to  thee  ;  and  thou -shalt  eat 
the  herb  of  the  field :  in  the  sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou 
eat  bread,  till  thou  return  unto  the  ground ;  for  out  of 
it  wast  thou  taken  :  for  dust  thou  (art,)  and  unto  dust 


ECCLES.  VI.  1 12.  Mi 

sha4t  thou  return."  "He  that  laboureth,"  says  Solo- 
mon elsewhere,  '*  laboureth  for  himself;  for  his  mouth 
requireth  it  of  him."*  The  effect  of  human  labour, 
therefore,  is  chiefly  valuable,  as  it  answers  this  end : 
"  Take  no  thought  for  your  life,"  said  he  who  had  the 
correctest  estimate  of  the  comparative  value  of  the  ob- 
jects of  desire,—"  take  no  (anxious)  thought  for  your 
life,  what  ye  shall  eat,  or  what  ye  shall  drink ;  nor  yet 
for  your  body,  what  ye  shall  put  on.  Is  not  the  life 
more  than  meat,  and  the  body  than  raiment?"  He, 
then,  who  has  life  sustained  by  his  labour,  has  the  first 
end  answered  of  all  human  exertion. 

"  Yet  the  appetite  is  not  filled."  This  is  true  of  all. 
It  is  never  durably  filled;  but  requires  to  have  its  crav- 
ings, which  are  ever  returning,  satisfied  anew  from  day 
to  day.  And  the  cravings  of  appetite  return  to  the  rich 
as  well  as  to  the  poor.  The  former  as  well  as  the  latter 
can  only  take,  of  all  his  profuse  abundance,  as  much  at 
a  time  as  his  appetite  will  receive. — In  this  respect,  too, 
"  what  hath  the  wise  more  than  the  fool  ?"  The  most 
learned  and  sagacious  of  men  has,  in  this  matter,  no 
pre-eminence  over  the  mere  idiot,  who,  by  some  means 
or  other,  obtains  a  sufficiency  of  food,  and  whose  appe- 
tite relishes  it  as  well  as  the  other's.  The  wise  man  can 
neither  prevent  the  returnings  of  hunger ;  nor,  when 
they  do  return,  can  he  allay  them  more  effectually  than 
the  fool.  In  this  essential  point  of  human  comfort,  they 
are  substantially  alike.  The  skilful  anatomist,  who  pos- 
sesses an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  whole  of  the 
complicated  and  wonderful  mechanism  of  the  human 
frame,  and  the  man  who  knows  little  more  than  the 
difference,  in  properties  that  meet  the  senses,  between 
the  flesh  and  the  bones,  divide  and  masticate  their  food 

♦  Gen.  iii.  17—19.   ProT.  xvi.  26, 

Hh 


34B  LECTURE  X. 

by  the  same  instruments,  and  receive  it  into  the  same 
organ  of  digestion  ;  it  is  mixed  with  the  same  juices, 
undergoes  the  same  changes,  affords  the  same  variety 
of  secretions,  and  carries  the  same  nourishment, 
through  the  same  channels,  to  the  same  bodily  mem- 
bers, which  all  occupy  the  same  relative  positions,  and 
respectively  fulfil  the  same  functions. 

"  What  hath  the  poor,"  it  is  added,  "  who  knoweth 
to  walk  before  the  living  ?" — The  answer  is  not  directly 
given  :  but  it  seems  to  me  to  be  indirectly  implied  in 
the  ninth  verse  :  "  Better  (is)  the  sight  of  the  eyes  than 
the  wandering  of  the  desire."  The  poor  that  knows 
how  to  conduct  himself  with  propriety  and  prudence, 
maintaining  a  behaviour  corresponding  with  the  station 
assigned  him  among  the  living; — who  is  ingenious, 
industrious,  obliging,  and  respected  accordingly,  en- 
joys the  necessaries  and  the  true  comforts  of  life  as 
well  as  the  richest.  He  has  "  the  sight  of  the  eyes," 
that  is,  he  has  substantial  present  enjoyment  in  what  he 
obtains;  and  in  this,  being  satisfied  with  it,  possessing 
the  tranquillity  of  a  contented  spirit,  he  has  what  is 
'^  better,"  more  conducive  to  true  happiness,  than  the 
unsatisfied  "  wandering  of  the  desire"  afternevv  objects 
of  pursuit,  which,  even  when  successfully  attained, 
leave  the  mind  still  craving,  never  disposed  to  say.  It 
is  enough. — ^This  incessant  restlessness  of  desire  after 
different  pleasures,  is  truly  "vanity  and  vexation  of 
spirit;"  and  it  is  a  vanity  and  vexation,  to  which  they 
are  especially  subject,  who  set  their  hearts  on  the 
wealth  and  gratifications  of  this  world  as  their  portion. 

The  tenth  verse,  as  it  stands  in  our  English  transla- 
tion,  is  exceedingly  obscure: — "  That  which  hath  been 
is  named  already,  and  it.  is  known  that  (it  is)  man : 
neither  may  he  contend  with  him  that  is  mightier  than 


ECCLES.  yi.  1 — 13.  243 

he."— The  intention  of  the  writer  seems  to  be,  to  ex- 
press the  common  frailty  and  vanity  of  the  nature  of 
man,  as  having  been  the  same  in  all  that  have  ever  ex- 
isted ;  and  the  verse  might  be  thus  rendered  : — "  For 
he  who  (or,  whosoever)  hath  been, — his  name  is  long 
since  named;*  and  it  is  known  what  he  is;— (even) 
MAN  ;"  (or,  "  and  it  is  known  that  he  is  man  :)  neither 
may  he  contend  with  him  that  is  mightier  than  he." — 
Take  any  person  that  has  existed,  or  that  now  exists ; 
any  individual  of  the  present  or  of  former  generations  ; 
—whatever  may  have  been  his  station,  whatever  his 
character  ;  **  his  name  has  been  long  since  named," 
God  having  of  old  given  one  name  to  the  entire  race. 
"  Male  and  female  created  he  them,  and  blessed  them; 
and  called  their  name  Adam  in  the  day  when  they 
were  created."  The  name  signified  originally  their  for- 
mation ^om  the  dust ;  but  it  came  afterwards  to  be  as- 
sociated with  their  return  to  the  dust:  *'  Dust  thou  art, 
and  unto  dust  thou  shalt  return."  This,  then,  is  the 
state  and  doom,  the  origin  and  the  end,  of  every  one 
without  exception,  whose  name  is  man.  In  his  best 
estate,  he  is  altogether  vanity,— sinful  dust  and  ashes. 
And  as  God  formed  him  from  the  earth,  named  him 
man,  and,  when  he  sinned,  destined  him  to  earth 
again ;  it  is  in  vain  for  him  to  "  contend  with  him  that 
is  mightier  than  he  :"  his  ''  vanity,"  as  a  frail  and  mor- 
tal creature,  being  the  result  of  Divine  appointment, 
and  the  execution  of  a  Divine  sentence,  is  utterly  irre- 
trievable. All  must  submit  successfully  to  the  same 
doom  ;  and  every  attempt  to  avert  it  is  at  once  foolish 
and  impious. 

*  "  Ills  name  is  long  since  named."  I  have  tbought  myself  justified  in  ren- 
dering the  word  naa  lovg  since.  It  occurs  only  in  this  Book,  chap.  i.  10.  iii.  15. 
vi.  10.  ix.  6.  "  As  a  particle,  it  denotes,  a  considerable  length  of  time,  a  gooi 
while,  as  we  say,  past,  or  io  co7(ie,"— Parkhurst. 


g44  LECTURE  X. 

Man,  then,  considered  in  himself,  is  vanity.  But  may 
not  this  "vanity,"  if  it  cannot  be  entirely  done  away, 
be  at  least  lessened,  and  the  "  vexation"  arising  from  it 
mitigated,  by  the  nature  of  the  pursuits  to  which  man 
devotes  himself  during  his  vain  life  ?  The  answer  must 
be.  Yes  ;  provided  we  include  amongst  these  pursuits 
true  religion,  which  constitutes  the  dignity  and  the  hap- 
piness of  every  rational  nature.  But  if  we  confine  our 
regard  to  those  pursuits  and  occupations  merely  which 
relate  to  the  present  world,  and  which  are  limited  in 
their  continuance  and  results  by  the  few  days  of  man's 
abode  upon  earth,  then  the  answer  is  to  be  found  in  the 
following  verse  :  — 

Verse  11.  "Seeing  there  be  many  things  that  in- 
crease vanity  what  is  man  the  better?" — Having  al- 
luded, in  the  tenth  verse,  to  the  vanity  of  the  nature  of 
man,  as  a  creature  of  the  dust,  and  doomed  to  dust 
again ;  he  here  represents  this  original  and  inherent  va- 
nity of  his  fallen  nature  as  "  increased"  instead  of  being 
mitigated  by  a  large  proportion  of  the  employments  of 
mankind,  and  of  their  attempts  at  the  attainment  of  hap- 
piness from  earthly  sources  alone.  In  this  view,  the 
whole  of  the  preceding  part  of  the  book  is  a  comment 
on  this  verse.  "  What  is  man  the  better"  of  all  these 
attempts  ?  His  temporal  comforts,  indeed,  both  per- 
sonal and  social,  may,  as  the  result  of  some  of  them, 
experience  improvement.  But  even  this  cannot  be  ef- 
fected without  a  heavy  accompaniment  of  evil,  pro- 
ducing a  scene  so  chequered,  as  to  have  given  rise  to 
many  debates,  whether,  in  the  average  lot  of  man,  the 
enjoyment  or  the  suffering  preponderates  : — and  when 
he  is  contemplated  in  the  light  in  which  every  wise  and 
good  being  must  regard  him,  as  rational,  immortal,  and 
accountable, — with  what  an  emphasis  of  deep  concern, 


ECCLES.  vr.  1 — IS.  245 

may  the  question  be  asked,  "  what  is  man  the  better?" 
How  frequently  is  he  the  worse  !  How  often  do  his  va- 
rious engagements  draw  away  his  mind  from  the  only 
true  source  of  happiness !  How  few  comparatively  re- 
pair to  it  ! — how  many,  alas !  to  the  *'  springs  of  false 
delight!" — And  even  as  to  temporal  enjoyment,  how 
often  are  the  anticipations  of  men,— their  fears  in  one 
quarter  and  their  hopes  in  another,  agreeably  or  bitterly 
disappointed ;  the  dreaded  evil  turning  out  for  good, 
and  the  wished-for  good,  proving  the  occasion  of  evil ! 
Hence  it  is  added,  in  the  twelfth  verse  : — "  For  who 
knoweth  what  is  good  for  man  in  (this)  life,  all  the 
days  of  his  vain  life,  which  he  spendeth  as  a  shadow  ? 
for  who  can  tell  a  man  what  shall  be  after  him  under 
the  sun?" — No  man  can  previously  affirm,  with  confi- 
dence, what  situation  will  be  best  for  him  in  this  life ; 
for  the  reason  just  hinted,  that  the  very  objects  which 
a  man  most  eagerly  covets  and  pursues,  in  the  expec- 
tation of  finding  happiness  from  them,  so  often,  when 
they  have  been  obtained,  bring  him,  instead  of  happi- 
ness, disappointment,  and  misery,  and  ruin ;  and  he 
discovers  too  late  his  error  and  miscalculation.  When 
the  inquiry,  "  Who  will  show  us  any  good?"  is  con- 
fined  to  the  things  of  this  life,  it  can  receive  no  satis- 
factory answer ;  no  answer  that  will  hold  permanently 
true.  It  must  be  continually  reiterated,  from  reiterated 
disappointment ;  each  source  successively  failing,  or 
quickly  satiating,  and  palling  upon  the  taste ;  no  man 
being  able  in  this  wilderness,  to  discover  for  himself, 
or  to  point  out  to  others,  any  fountain  of  pure  and  pe- 
rennial joy ;  any  fountain  that  can  with  certainty  be  de- 
pended upon,  even  during  the  fleeting  years  of  a  single 
life.  Riches,  honours,  power,  and  pleasure,  and  even 
knpvvledge  itself, — all  are  precarious, — ^incapable  of  be- 


246  LECTURE  X. 

ing  insured  even  for  the  short  period  of  his  "  vain  life, 
which  he  spendeth  as  a  shadow  ;"— equally  unsubstan- 
tial, equally  transient,  and  equally  trackless.  "  Man 
that  is  born  of  a  woman—cometh  forth  as  a  flower,  and 
is  cut  down  ;  he  fleeth  also  as  a  shadow,  and  continueth 
not."  *'  Our  days  on  earth  are  as  a  shadow,  and  there 
is  no  abiding,"  And  yet  not  only  is  it  impossible  to 
secure,  for  the  brief  duration  of  this  vain  and  shadowy 
existence,  the  sources  of  enjoyment  recommended  by 
other  guides  and  other  teachers  than  Him  who  is  him- 
self the  Supreme  good;  but  even  while  they  last  they 
are  unsatisfactory.  With  a  precariousness  belonging  to 
them  every  successive  moment,  they  unite  a  constant 
feeling  of  present  deficiency. — And  in  addition  to  this  ; 
a  man's  happiness,  in  as  far  as  it  depends*  on  the  pos- 
session and  hope  of  earthly  things,  is  not  a  little  affected 
by  his  prospects  of  the  future,  as  well  as  by  what  is  at 
tlie  moment  passing  over  him  ;— by  the  use  that  may  be 
made  of  his  substance  when  he  has  left  it  behind  him ; 
by  the  reputation  in  which  his  name  may  be  held  by 
posterity  ;  by  what  he  imagines,  with  or  without  rea- 
son, may  befall  his  family ;  and  by  other  anticipations 
of  a  similar  kind:— yet  of  such  things  he  is  utterly  ig- 
norant, and  all  around  him  are  as  ignorant  as  himself. 
No  one  can  open  to  him  the  secrets  of  futurity :  "  for 
who  can  tell  a  man  what  shall  be  after  him?"  His 
"  vain  life"  must  speedily  come  to  a  close  ;  and  this 
must  terminate,  completely  and  for  ever,  all  his  con- 
nections with  this  world ;  so  that  he  can  no  more  have 
*'  a  portion  in  any  thing  that  is  done  under  the  sun." — 
How  inexpressibly  light  and  worthless,  then,  are  all 
those  pursuits  that  end  at  the  grave,  and  that  leave, 
even  to  the  most  successful  of  their  votaries,  the  mo- 
ment he  has  closed  his  eyes  on  time,  no  profit,  no  re- 


ECCLES.  VI.  1 12.  247 

suit,  nothing  whatever,— but  that  which  he  has  vainly 
estimated  as  the  prize  oi  life,  leaving  him,  alas  !  a  blank 
for  eternity  ! 

Must  the  question,  then,  as  to  "  what  is  best  for  a 
man  ail  the  d-ys  of  his  vain  life,"  be  left  without  an 
ansvV(er  ?  Is  there  no  one  that  knows  it,  and  can  fur- 
nish a  satisfactory  reply  ?  Yes,  my  friends,  it  is  an- 
swered; answered  by  unerring  knowledge  and  supreme 
authority  : — it  is  answered  in  this  blessed  book  of  God  . 
of  which  the  leading  and  all-gracious  design  is,  to  show 
us  the  way  to  true  happiness  both  here  and  hereafter. 
Here  multitudes  have  found  it ;  and  many  of  them, 
after  having  run  the  whole  round  of  earthly  pleasures  in 
the  vain  pursuit.  They  have  at  length  renounced  these 
empty  or  polluted  cisterns,  and  have  learned  to  "  draw 
water  with  joy  out  of  the  wells  of  salvation."  They 
have  found  in  the  Creator,  to  whom  the  lessons  of  the 
Bible  directed  them,  what  they  sought  w'lXh  no  success 
from  the  creature.  They  have  "  wept  a  silent  flood" 
over  their  former  follies  ;  and  "  the  Father  of  mercies" 
has  wiped  the  tears  of  penitential  sorrow  from  their 
eyes,  and  filled  their  souls  with  his  own  peculiar  joys. 
Having  "  tasted  that  the  Lord  is  gracious,"  they  have 
learned  to  say,  with  delight  unfelt  before,  "  The  Lord 
is  my  portion,  saith  my  soul ;  therefore  will  I  hope  in 
him:"  "  It  is  good  for  me,  that  I  draw  near  unto  God:" 
*'  Men  of  the  world  have  their  portion  in  this  life :  as 
for  me,  I  will  behold  thy  face  in  righteousness ;  I  shall 
be  satisfied  when  I  awake  with  thy  likeness:"  "Blessed 
be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who 
hath  blessed  us  with  all  spiritual  blessings  in  heavenly 
places  in  Christ:"  "Thanks  be  unto  God  for  his  un- 
speakable gift !" 

The  favour  of  God,  the  service  of  God,  and  the 


248  LECTURE  X. 

"  good  hope  through  grace"  possessed  by  the  children 
of  God,— these  are  "  good  for  a  man,"— these  are  good 
for  every  man,  "  all  the  days  of  his"  otherwise  "  vain 
life."  *'  He  hath  showed  thee,  O  man,  what  is  good : 
and  what  doth  the  Lord  require  of  thee,  but  to  do  justly, 
to  love  mercy,  and  to  walk  humbly  with  thy  God  ?" 
"  Blessed  is  the  man  that  feareth  the  Lord,  that  de- 
lighteth  greatly  in  his  commandments :"  "  Blessed  is 
the  people,  whose  God  is  the  Lord !" 

Human  life,  considered  in  itself,  apart  from  its  con- 
nection with  eternity,  is  vanity ;  a  fleeting  shadow ;  a 
fading  flower ;  a  vapour  that  endureth  for  a  moment^ 
and  then  vanisheth  away.  Man,  contemplated  merely 
as  the  possessor  of  such  a  life,  is  vanity ;  a  creature 
formed  of  the  dust,  and  soon  to  return  to  the  dust 
again : — all  his  pursuits,  be  they  what  they  may,  that 
are  confined  to  this  transitory  and  precarious  existence, 
are  vanity ;  and  all  will  be  found  in  the  end,  as  they 
have  many  a  time  been  found  in  present  experience,  to 
be  "  vexation  of  spirit."  If  this  lesson  is  not  learned, 
with  salutary  effect,  in  this  world,  it  will  be  learned  in 
all  the  everlasting  anguish  and  unavailing  desperation 
of  the  next.  Oh  !  if  the  soul,  when  trembling  on  the 
verge  of  eternity,  when  the  last  fibre  of  the  thread  of 
life  is  parting,  can  only  look  backward  with  tormenting 
regret,  and  forward  with  more  tormenting  doubt  and 
despair  ! — what  a  state  for  an  immortal  and  accountable 
creature  ! — to  feel  the  torturing  conviction,  that  he  has 
been  trifling,  or  worse  than  trifling,  all  his  days,  that 
he  has  thrown  his  life  away  on  "  vanity,"  and  has  no- 
thing left  as  the  result  but  "  vexation  of  spirit ;"  that  it 
is  too  late  to  make  provision  for  the  world  to  come,  and 
which  is  just  opening  to  him  in  all  its  darkness,  and  all 
its  unknown  terrors.;  that  he  has  finished  and  sealed  the 


ECCLES.  yi.  1 — i2.  S49 

"  senseless  bargain"  (Oh  how  bitterly  does  he  feel  it  to 
be  so?)  of  "Eternity  for  "bubbles;"  that  he  has  bar- 
tered and  danined  his  soul  for  the  "  pleasures  of  sin" 
and  the  worthless  nothings  of  a  world  that  has  passed 
away  from  him  ! — It  is  not  necessary  that  a  man  Should 
have  *'  seen  no  good,"  or  should  have  had  "  no  power 
to  enjoy"  his  "riches,  and  wealth,  and  honour,"  and 
family,  in  order  to  his  feeling  their  emptiness  in  his 
latter  end,  v.hen  his  soul  is  absorbed  in  one  grand  con- 
cern, and  longs  for  a  peace  and  a  hope  which  they  are 
incapable  of  imparting.  Even  though  he  had  derived 
from  them  through  life  the  whole  amount  of  pleasure 
which,  without  the  influence  of  true  religion,  it  is  in 
their  power  to  bestow  ;  still  it  is  pleasure  that  is  gone 
with  each  passing  moment,  and  leaves  the  soul  at  last 
drearily  desolate,  and  unprovided  for  the  boundless 
prospect  that  lies  before  it.  Ke  has  ^'  received  in  his 
life-time  his  good  things,"  and  all  must  be  left  behind 
him.  He  has  lived  without  God,  and  without  God  he 
must  die.  His  life  has  been  faithless,  and  his  death 
must  be  hopeless.  He  has  laid  up  for  himself  treasures 
on  earth,  and  there  is  no  treasure  reserved  for  him  in 
heaven.  He  has  said  to  his  soul,  ^'  Thou  hast  goods 
laid  up  for  many  years ,  take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and 
be  merry  ;"  and  when  "  his  soul  is  required  of  him," 
he  feels  himself  "  a  fool."  He  "  came  in  with  vanity," 
and  he  "  departeth  in  darkness." — It  is  the  everlasting 
existence  by  which  it  is  followed  that  stamps  impor- 
tance on  the  life  of  man.  Should  a  man  double  the  age 
of  Methuselah,  his  life  (though  to  us,  wuth  our  narrow 
span  of  threescore  years  and  ten,  it  might  seem  like  a 
little  eternity.)  would  still  be  vanity,  if  it  were  spent 
without  reference  to  the  endless  duration  that  is  beyond 
it.  Another  year,  my  friends,  has  just  gone  over  u?, 
'  *      I  i 


350  LECTURE  X.    ECCLES.   VI.   1 IS. 

and  is  r.ow  as  irrecoverable  as  "  the  years  before  the 
flood."  But>  Oh  remember,  it  will  not  have  as  little  in- 
fluence on  our  future  destinies.  Ask  yourselves  how  it 
has  been  spent.  Ask  yourselves  how  all  the  years  of 
your  past  life  have  been  spent.  How  many  have  you 
lived  ?  and  what  have  you  been  doing  ?  Have  you  anti- 
cipated eternity  ?  Have  you  made  any  provision  for 
your  immortal  existence  ?  Have  you,  in  the  way  of  his 
own  appointment,  secured  the  blessing  of  God,  and  a 
title  to  the  inheritance  above  ?  Are  there  not  many  of 
my  hearers  whose  consciences  say  JVo  to  such  enqui- 
ries ? — who  have  lived  twenty,  thirty,  forty,  sixty,  nay,, 
perhaps  fourscore  years,  "  without  God  in  the  world," 
— *'  without  Christ  and  without  hope  ?"— -Ohl  trifle  no 
longer  with  interests  of  such  tremendous  magnitude. 
<^Live  not  the  rest  of  your  time  in  the  flesh,  to  the 
lusts  of  men,  but  to  the  will  of  God."  "  Choose  the 
good  part  that  shall  never  be  taken  away  from  you." 
<^  Seek  ye  the  Lord  while  he  may  be  found ;  call  upon 
him  while  he  is  near."  "  The  Spirit  and  the  Bride  say, 
Come ;  and  let  him  that  heareth  say.  Come ;  and  who- 
soever will,  let  him  come,  and  take  of  the  water  of  life 
freelv." 


LECTURE  XI. 


EccLEs.  vii.  1 — 6. 

1  "v^  C  good  J  name  fisj  better  than  precious  oinlnient ;  and  the  day 

2  of  death  than  the  day  of  one's  birth.  ("It  is  J  better  to  go  to  the  house 
of  mourning  than  to  go  to  the  house  of  feasting :  for  that  fisJ  the 

3  end  of  all  me?i ;  and  the  living  ivill  lay  fit  J  to  his  heart.    Sorrow 
CisJ  better  than  laughter :  for  by  the  sadness  of  the  countenance  the 

4  heart  is  made  better.    The  heart  of  the  wise  fisJ  in  the  house  of 

5  mourning:  but  the  heart  of  fools  fisJ  in  the  house  of  mirth,     fit 
is  J  better  to  hear  the  rebuke  of  the  wise  than  for  a  man  to  hear  the 

6  songs  of  fools.   For  as  the  crackling  of  thorns  under  a  pot,  so  C^^y 
the  laughter  of  the  fool.    This  also  (is J  vanity. 


Having  represented,  in  a  great  variety  of  views,  the 
vanity  of  human  life,  and  of  its  numerous  and  diversi- 
fied pursuits,  Solomon  now  proceeds  to  set  before  us 
the  counsels  of  wisdom,  for  the  regulation  of  our  de- 
sires and  the  guidance  of  our  conduct  in  this  vain  and 
transitory  world.  Some  of  these,  like  many  of  the  say- 
ings of  our  Divine  Lord,  stand  in  direct  opposition  to 
the  ordinary  sentiments  and  practices  of  mankind.  But 
they  are  not,  on  this  account,  the  less  worthy  of  our 
most  serious  attention  :  for  it  need  not  surely  be  matter 
of  surprise,  that  the  thoughts  and  the  feelings  of  a  fallen 
and  depraved  creature,  whose  heart  is  corrupt,  and 
whose  understanding  is  the  dupe  of  its  corruption, 
should  not  coincide  with  the  mind  of  the  infinitely  wise 
and  the  infinitely  holy ; — 'that  to  such  a  creature  the 
directions  and  admonitions  of  Heaven  should,  in  many 
instances,  appear  paradoxical  and  extravagant. 

Verse  1.  "  A  (good)  name  (is)  better  than  precious 


253  LECTURE  XI. 

ointment;  and  the  day  of  death  than  the  day  of  one's 
birth." 

Perhaps  this  might,  without  impropriety,  be  consi- 
dered  as  a  reply  to  the  question  in  tlie  close  of  the  pre- 
ceding chapter  :  "  Who  knoweth  what  is  good  for  man 
all  the  days  of  his  vain  life  which  he  spendeth  as  a  sha- 
dow? for  who  can  tell  a  man  what  shiill  be  after  him 
under  the  sun  ? — There  is  one  thing,  answers  Solomon, 
which  is  eminently  good  for  a  man;  good  while  he  lives, 
and  the  possession  of  which  will  render  the  day  of  his 
death  even  better  than  the  day  of  his  birth ;  it  is  "a 
GOOD  NAME."  This  will  bless  his  life,  and  embalm  his 
memory. — But  respecting  "  a  good  name"  several 
things  are  carefully  to  be  observed.  Jn  the  first  place, 
it  means  more  than  merely  bs'mg  well  spoken  of.  A  man 
may  be  well  spoken  of,  nay,  may  even  acquire  higii  re- 
nown, who,  judging  on  Scripture  principles,  ought  ra- 
ther to  be  condemned ;  the  world  very  frequently,  in 
their  estimate  of  character,  not  only  allowing  a  little  ap- 
parent good  to  compensate  for  much  real  evil,  but  even 
*'  calling  good  evil,  and  evil  good,  putting  darkness  for 
light,  and  light  for  darkness,  bitter  for  sweet,  and  sweet 
for  bitter."  Many,  alas !  are  the  instances,  in  which 
*'that  which  is  highly  esteemed  amongst  men  is  abo- 
mination in  the  sight  of  God."  A  good  name,  in  the 
Scriptural  use  of  the  phrase,  is  a  reputation  for  what  ig 
truly  good;  for  piety,  wisdom,  integrity,  benevolence, 
and  other  genuine  excellences  of  character. — It  is  fur- 
ther to  be  noticed,  that  the  reputation  must  be  consi- 
dered as  including  the  reality^ — the  actual  possession 
of  the  virtues  that  are  the  ground  of  praise.  A  reputa- 
tion, indeed,  for  qualities,  which  wc  are  conscious  to 
ourselves  we  do  not  possess,  so  far  from  imparting  any 
true  satisdiction  to  the  mind,  must,  on  the  contrary^ 


ECCLES.  VII.   1 6.  253 

occasion  the  most  painful  emotions  of  vexation,  and 
shame,  and  self-reproach.  Whilst  there  remains  a  spark 
of  generous  and  honest  feeling  in  the  bosom,  nothing 
can  be  more  distressing  than  unmerited  commendation. 

Rightly  understood,  then, — as  signifying  a  reputation, 
founded  in  the  real  possession  of  what  is  truly  good, 
good  in  the  sight  of  God, — "  a  good  name  is  better 
than  precious  ointment."  Two  qualities  are  expressed 
by  the  comparison.  It  is  pleasant^  and  it  is  valuable  ; 
as  the  ointment  is  odoriferous^  and  costly. — ^'  Ointment 
and  perfume  rejoice  the  heart ;  so  (dolh)  the  sweetness 
of  a  man's  friend  by  hearty  counsel:" — "  Because  of 
the  savour  of  thy  good  ointments,  thy  name  (is  as)  oint- 
ment poured  forth  ;  therefore  do  the  virgins  love  thee  :" 
— "  Behold,  how  good  and  how  pleasant  (a  thing  it  is,) 
for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity  !  (It  is)  like  the 
precious  ointment  upon  the  head,  that  ran  down  upon 
the  beard,  (even)  Aaron's  beard;  that  went  down  to 
the  skirts  of  his  garments :"— ^^  Mary  took  a  pound  of 
ointment  of  spikenard,  very  costly,  and  anointed  the 
feet  of  Jesus,  and  wiped  his  feet  with  her  hair :  and  the 
house  was  filled  with  the  odour  of  the  ointment."* 
These  passages  show  the  ground  for  both  the  ideas 
which  we  conceive  the  comparison  to  express.  But  the 
sign  falls  far  below  the  thing  signified,  both  in  its  plea- 
santness and  its  preciousness. 

A  good  name  is  to  its  possessor  a  source  of  pure  and 
exquisite  enjoyrnent;  gratifying  in  a  high  degree  to  his 
feelings,  when  it  is  not  pronounced,  by  a  secret  con- 
sciousness, to  be  entirely  unfounded.  It  is  pleasant  as 
the  fragrance  of  rich  perfume;  sweet  and  refreshing, 
soothing  and  exhilarating  to  the  soul.  The  sweetness  of 
it  should  be  estimated  by  the  bitterness  of  its  opposite. 

♦  ProY.  xxyii.  9,  Cant.  i.  3.  Psal.  cxxxiii.  1,  2.  John  s".  3. 


S54  LECTURE  XI. 

But  it  is  not  merely,  nor  chiefly,  as  a  source  of  plea- 
sure to  a  man's  own  mind,  that  a  good  name  is  to  be 
prized :— it  is  of  more  substantial  value,  as  an  impor- 
tant qualification  for  usefulness.  The  power  of  any  man 
to  do  good  depends,  in  an  eminent  degree,  on  the  re- 
putation he  enjoys.  His  character  multiplies  his  oppor- 
tunities, inspires  confidence,  gives  weight  to  his  coun- 
sels, and  freedom  and  energy  and  effect  to  all  his  do- 
ings. To  the  man  of  inconsistency,  it  will  be  said  with 
sconi,  ''Physician,  heal  thyself;"  but  he  whose  repu- 
tation is  established  for  uniform  integrity,  possesses  a 
winning  and  commanding  influence,  which  he  may  turn 
to  most  profitable  account,  in  the  cause  of  truth,  bene- 
volence,  and  piety.  It  is  our  duty,  therefore,  to  desire 
"  a  good  name,"  not  merely  on  its  own  account,  or  for 
the  satisfaction  it  affords  to  ourselves,  but  for  the  sake 
of  its  utility  in  enabling  us  the  more  effectually  to  pro- 
mote the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  men.  It  gives 
us,  to  use  the  language  of  mechanics,  a  rest,  and  a  pur- 
chase, in  advancing  every  good  work,  which  nothing 
else  whatever  can  furnish. — For  this  reason,  they  are 
decidedly,  and  very  far,  in  the  wrong,  who  despise,  or 
rather,  perhaps,  who  affect  to  despise,  "  a  good  name," 
and  to  pour  contempt  on  the  opinion  of  the  world,  and 
disregard,  as  unworthy  of  their  notice,  whatever  men 
may  say  of  them.  It  is  true  that  our  first  and  highest 
concern  should  be,  to  "commend  ourselves  unto 
God ;"  and,  compared  with  this,  it  should  be  "  a  light 
thing"  with  us  "  to  be  judged  of  man's  judgment."  It 
is  also  true,  that  we  should  employ  no  means  of  ob- 
taining a  character  amongst  men,  but  the  direct  and 
honourable  means  of  a  steady  and  consistent  deport- 
ment ;  the  cultivation  and  the  display  (not  the  ostenta- 
tious, but  the  unobtrusive  and  unavoidable  display)  of 


ECCLES.  VII.  1 — 6.  255 

real  goodness, — goodness  that  follows  its  every- day 
course  of  well-doing, 

"  Holds  the  noiseless  tenor  of  its  way." 

neither  courting  observation  nor  shrinking  from  it ;  not 
varnishing  itself  with  a  false  lustre,  but  appearing  in  all 
its  native  simplicity  and  loveliness ;  not  shadow,  but 
substance  ;  not  tinsel,  but  bullion.  Whilst  all  this  is 
readily  conceded  ;  still  we  maintain,  that  to  be  totally 
unconcerned  whether  we  be  slandered  or  approved, 
v/hether  "our  good  be  well  or  evil  spoken  of,"  is  as 
immoral  as  it  is  unnatural.  The  same  apostle  who 
counted  it  *'  a  light  thing  to  be  judged  of  man's  judg- 
ment," and  kept  in  mind  that  "  he  that  judged  him  was 
the  Lord,"  was,  at  the  same  time,  earnestly  solicitous, 
and  took  measures  of  prudent  precaution  accordingly, 
to  "  provide  for  honest  things,  not  only  in  the  sight  of 
the  Lord,  but  also  in  the  sight  of  men  ;"  he  denied 
himself,  and  declined  the  benefit  of  his  just  rights,  that 
he  "  might  cut  off  occasion  from  them  that  desired  oc- 
casion" to  reproach  and  calumniate  him ;  and  this,  for 
the  very  reason  we  have  been  assigning,  a  regard  to 
his  official  usefulness  ;  "  lest  he  should  hinder  the  gos- 
pel of  Christ."  The  same  principle  is  involved  also  in 
the  precept,  "  Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men,  that 
they  may  see  your  good  works,  and  glorify  your  Fa- 
ther who  is  in  heaven." 

"  And  the  day  of  death  (is  better)  than  the  day  of 
one's  birth." — This  seems  a  strange  saying.  The  birth 
of  a  child  is  a  season  of  gladness,  gratulation,  and  fes- 
tivity. The  death  of  the  same  child,  when  it  has  ad- 
vanced to  manhood  or  to  age,  is  the  occasion  of  sorrow 
and  bitter  lamentation.  It  comes  into  the  world  amidst 
rejoicings,  and  leaves  it  amidst  tears.     Yet  it  is  here 


fl5Q  LECTURE  XI. 

affirmed  that  "  the  day  of  death  is  rbetter  than  the  day 
of  one's  birth."_the  affirmation  may  be  understood  in 
different  ways  : — 

It  may  be  interpreted  generally^  in  connection  witli 
the  view  given  of  the  vanity  and  vexation  of  the  life  of 
man.  It  may  be  the  sentiment  of  chapter  iv.  1—3. 
generalized;  applied  to  human  life  on  the  whole^  in- 
stead of  being  confined  to  one  particular  department 
of  observation  :  as  if  he  had  said,  Seeing  "  all  is  vanity 
and  vexation  of  spirit,"— seeing  there  are  so  many 
springs  of  bitter  water  in  this  valley  of  tears,  of  which 
all  who  pass  through  it  must  drink,  the  man  whose 
journey  has  tetminated  is  more  enviable  than  he  who 
has  it  yet  to  begin  ;  to  the  former  all  its  evils  having 
ended  in  the  grave,— the  land  of  deep  forgetfulness, 
where  "  the  weary  are  at  rest."  The  truth  of  the  sen- 
timent, in  this  general  view  of  it,  is  proportioned  to  the 
measure  of  suffering  endured  by  the  person's  self,  or, 
to  the  increase  of  his  own  unhappiness,  witnessed  by 
him  in  others. 

But  if  we  adopt  this  principle  of  explanation,  it  is 
evident,  we  must  stop  short  at  the  grave.  We  must  con- 
template man  simply  as  passing  through  this  world,  and 
the  grave  as  the  close  of  his  journey, — the  boundary  of 
his  course.  Now,  we  can  hardly  for  a  moment  suppose 
that  Solomon  meant  we  should  look  no  further ;  that 
we  should  consider  man  merely  as  the  creature  of  a 
'day,— his  life  limited  by  the  litde  span  of  "  threescore 
years  and  ten,"  cut  off  from  all  connection  with  a  life 
to  come.  Yet  if  we  do  look  beyond  the  grave,  we  must 
necessarily  introduce  into  the  sentiment  before  us  cer- 
tain limitations  and  distinctions.  It  certainly  is  not  true 
respectii^g  all  who  die,  that  the  day  of  their  death  is 
better  than  the  day  of  their  birth.    To  many  it  is  fear- 


ECCLES.  VII.   i' — 6.  257 

fully  the  reverse.  And  perhaps,  as  I  before  noticed, 
the  distinction  is  hinted  by  the  connection  of  the  say- 
ing with  that  which  precedes ;  the  superiority  of  death 
to  birth  being  affirmed  only  of  the  man  who  possesses 
*'  a  good  name,"  in  the  sense  we  have  affixed  to  the 
phrase. 

We  rejoice  when  a  man  is  born  into  the  world.  The 
joy  is  natural ;  nor  is  there  any  impropriety  in  it. — But 
let  me  suppose  for  a  moment,  that  we  were  let  into  the 
secret  of  the  little  stranger's  future  history ;  and  sup- 
pose he  were  exhibited  by  the  Oracle,  tormented  by 
incessant  disease,  crossed  and  fretted  by  perpetual  dis- 
apppointments  and  vexations  ;  every  blossom  and  pro- 
mise  of  personal  and  social  joy  invariably  and  entirely 
blasted ;  a  man  of  sorrows,  and  familiar  with  griefs  :— 
how  completely  then  would  our  feelings  of  gladness  be 
changed  to  those  of  heaviness  and  anguish  !  This  would 
be  the  case,  even  viewing  things  with  reference  to  the 
present  life  alone :  and  too  often  is  the  birth  of  a  child, 
with  inconsiderate  and  vacant  listlessness,  thought  of 
in  no  other  light.  But  what  is  the  event  in  reality  ?  It 
is  the  entrance  of  an  immortal  creature  on  an  intermix 
nablc  existence.  Yes;— that  little  feeble  babe,  that  hangs 
in  dependent  helplessness  upon  the  breast,  is  a  child  of 
immortality.  When  you  have  numbered  the  sands  of 
the  ocean,  you  will  not  have  numbered  the  years  of  its 
existence.  There  resides  in  that  tender  little  frame,  a 
spiritual  substance,  a  soul,  which  death  cannot  touch, 
possessing  powers  capable  of  indefinite,  and  eternal  ex- 
pansion, and  susceptibilities  of  everlasting  enjoyment 
or  of  unending  wo ; — a  spirit,  that  "  smiles  at  the  drawn 
dagger,  and  defies  its  point ;"  that  shall  "  triumph  in 
immortal  youth ;"  that  is  destined  to  live,  as  long  as 
God  himself. — Suppose,  then,  we  could  get  still  farther 
Kk 


25$  LECTURE  XI. 

into  the  future  history  of  the  babe  that  has  just  made 
its  entrance  into  our  world,  and  is  passing  through  it 
to  another :— suppose  we  could  find  access  to  the  book 
of  Heaven's  decrees,  and  could  ascertain  its  eternal 
destiny ;  and  were  infallibly  assured,  that  after  a  life  of 
unintermitted  suffering  here,  it  was  to  sink  into  an 
eternity  of  wo  : — Oh  !  should  we  not  then  weep  over 
him  tears  of  blood  ?  should  we  not  wring  our  hands,  in 
speechless  agony,  over  his  little  cradle,  and  be  ready 
to  "open  our  mouth  and  to  curse  his  d-^y  ?"— Surely 
it  could  not  then  be  true,  that  tlie  clay  of  death  would 
be  better  than  ihe  day  of  birth.  No  ;  for  there  can  be 
no  suffering  here  comparable  to  the  misery  of  hell.  The 
sentiment  we  should  then  utter,  would  be, — "  Good 
were  it  for  that  child,  if  it  had  never  been  born !" 

The  saying  before  us  then  must  be  confined  to  the 
wise  and  the  good  ;  to  the  children  of  God  ;  those  who 
have  believed  his  word,  and  walked  in  his  ways,  and 
have  had  "  a  good  name"  in  "  the  Lamb's  book  of  life." 
Of  them  it  is  emphatically  true  ;  true,  in  all  its  extent 
of  meaning  ;  true,  not  only  when  this  life  has  been  a 
life  of  unusual  suffering— when  they  go  to  heaven  '*  out 
of  great  tribulation ;"  but  true,  even  taking  life  in  its 
"  best  estate,"  freest  of  evil  and  fullest  of  good.  This 
is  the  language  alike  of  the  Old  and  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment records.  To  such,  death  is  a  salvation  ;  a  salva- 
tion from  sin  and  from  all  the  evil  of  which  sin  is  the 
cause.  The  day  of  birth  is  the  day  of  entrance  on  a 
sinful,  and  therefore  on  a  suffering  world  :  the  day  of 
death  is  the  day  of  entrance  on  a  sinless,  and  therefore 
a  perfectly  happy  world.  "  To  die  is"  thus  "  gain." 
^^  Blessed  are  the  dtad  who  die  in  the  Lord."  "  They 
shall  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more,  neither 
shall  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any  heat :  for  the  Lamb 


ECCLES.  VII.  1 — 6.  259 

which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  shall  feed  them,  and 
shall  lead  them  unto  living  fountains  of  waters ;  and 
God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes." — The 
passage  through  Jordan  into  the  land  flowing  with  milk 
and  honey,  was  better  to  the  Israelites,  than  the  passage 
through  the  Red  Sea  into  the  difficulties  and  dangers 
and  distresses  of  "  the  waste  howling  wilderness." 

Our  journey  through  this  world  is  toward  that  which 
is  eternal.  How  long  it  is  to  be,  or  how  short,  we  arc 
iill  equally  ignorant.  But  the  prime  concern  is,  with  re- 
gard to  each  of  us,  that,  however  short  or  however  long, 
it  may  end  well.  Consequences  unutterably  important, 
interests  of  eternal  moment,  depend  on  its  termination. 
Yet,  alas!  such  is  the  natural  earthliness  of  our  minds, 
—such  the  fascinating  and  seductive  influence  of  "  the 
things  that  are  seen,"  that  although  we  know  and  ac- 
knowledge them  to  be  but  temporal,  they  are  for  ever 
excluding  from  our  thoughts  and  desires  the  "  things 
that  are  unseen,"  though  they  are  eternal.  Alas  !  for 
the  wisdom  of  human  nature; — alas!  for  the  boasted 
prudence  of  rational  and  calculating  man,  that  it  should 
be  so !  But  that  it  is  so,  we  cannot  cast  even  a  hasty 
glance  upon  the  world, — we  cannot  turn  our  eye  inward 
for  a  moment  to  the  secrets  of  our  own  hearts,  without 
the  sad  conviction  forcing  itself  upon  our  minds.  The 
man  must  have  renounced  all  pretensions  to  soundness 
of  intellect  and  rectitude  of  feeling,  who  will  not  admit 
the  importance  of  immortal  creatures  considering  with 
seriousness  the  prospects  that  are  before  them  ;  laying 
to  heart  the  things  that  belong  to  their  everlasting  peace, 
and  not  sacrificing  eternity  to  time,  excellent  and  evcr- 
during  joys  for  the  paltry  vanities  of  the  world,  and 
"  the  pleasures  of  sin  which  are  but  for  a  season."  But 
if  this  be  granted, — if  such  consideration  be  the  wisdom 


S60  LECTURE  XI. 

of  such  creatures ;  then,  whatever  has  any  tendency  to 
correct  the  deceptions  of  time,  and  to  keep  men  in  mind 
of  eternity,  to  counteract  the  power  of  sensible  objects, 
and  to  give  predominant  influence  to  those  that  are 
spiritual, — must  be  infinitely  "  better," — more  condu- 
cive to  the  true  interests  of  mankind, — than  what  has  a 
contrary  tendency  ; — a  tendency  to  aid  the  natural  de- 
pravity and  worldliness  of  the  heart,  in  blinding,  allur- 
ing, and  bewitching  men,  to  their  endless  ruin. 

It  is  on  this  principle,  that  the  maxims  contained  in 
the  following  verses  are  founded  : 
i  Verses  2-- — 4.  "  (It  is)  better  to  go  to  the  house  of 
mourning,  than  to  go  to  the  house  of  feasting  :  for  that 
(is)  the  end  of  all  men  ;  and  the  living  will  lay  (it)  to  his 
heart.  Sorrow  (is)  better  than  laughter  :  for  by  the  sad- 
ness of  the  countenance,  the  heart  is  made  better.  The 
heart  of  the  wise  (is)  in  the  house  of  mourning  :  but  the 
heart  of  fools  (is)  in  the  house  of  mirth." 

"  It  is  better  to  go  to  the  house  of  mourning," — the 
house  where  Death  has  paid  his  gloomy  visit,  and  has 
spread  his  pall  over  the  light  of  domestic  joy, — "^  than 
to  go  to  the  house  of  feasting,"  where  all  is  gaiety  and 
merriment,  and  animal  indulgence.— The  reason  of  the 
preference  is  assigned  : — "  for  that,"  namely  death,  and 
the  mourning  attending  it,  "  is  the  end  of  all  men  5  and 
the  living  will  lay  it  to  his  heart."  The  general  tenden- 
cies of  the  two  contrasted  scenes  are  thus  expressed. 
It  is  not  to  be  inferred  that  in  every  case  it  is  wrong  to 
go  to  a  "  house  of  feasting."— Our  blessed  Master, 
though  "  holy,  harmless,  undefiled,  and  separate  from 
sinners,"  graced  a  marriage- feast  with  his  presence,  and 
supplied,  by  miracle,  the  means,  not  of  inebriation,  (in- 
finitely far  from  our  minds  be  such  a  thought!)  but  of 
innopent  convivial  cheerfulness  :— and  the  apostle  Paul; 


ECCLES.  ▼!!.  1 6.  261 

when  he  makes  the  supposition  of  Christians  being 
*'  bidden  to  a  feast"  by  "  any  of  them  that  believe  not," 
lays  them  under  no  prohibition  of  compliance,  should 
they  be  "  disposed  to  go,"  but  only  cautions  them  as 
to  some  parts  of  their  conduct  while  there.*   There  are 
joyous  seasons,  and  occurrences  in  life,  when  we  may, 
without  impropriety,  unbend  ourselves  in  social  festive 
enjoyment :   always  taking  heed,  that  we  keep  within 
the  limits  of  Christian  temperance  ;  and  never  forgetting 
the  Divine  Author  of  all  our  blessings,  and  our  obliga- 
tions to  use  them  to  his  glory.    But  still,  the  house  of 
feasting  has  peculiar  temptations.  Its  general  tendency, 
proved  alas !  by  much  mournful  experience,  is  to  pro- 
duce forgetfulness  of  God  and  of  spiritual  things,  to  fill 
the  mind  with  worldly  vanities,  to  dissipate  serious  im- 
pressions, and  thus,  instead  of  counteracting,  to  aid  the 
deceptions  of  time  and  sense.  *'  The  harp  and  the  viol, 
the  tabret  and  pipe,  and  wine,  are  in  their  feasts  :  but 
they  regard  not  the  work  of  the  Lord,  neither  consider 
the  operation  of  his  hands."    *'  They  lie  upon  beds  of 
ivory,  and  stretch  themselves  upon  their  couches,  and 
eat  the  lambs  out  of  the  flock,  and  the  calves  out  of  the 
midst  of  the  stall.  They  chant  to  the  sound  of  the  viol, 
(and)  invent  to  themselves  instruments  of  music  like 
David :   they  drink   wine  in  bowls,  and  anoint  them- 
selves with  the  chief  ointments  :  but  they  are  not  grieved 
for  the  afflictions  of  Joseph."     *'  Job's  sons  went  and 
feasted  (in  their  houses,  every  one  his  day ;   and  sent 
and  called  for  their  three  sisters,  to  eat  and  to  drink  with 
them.  And  it  was  so,  when  the  days  of  (their)  feasting 
were  gone  about,  that  Job  sent  and  sanctified  them,  and 
rose  up  early  in  the  morning,  and  offered  burnt-offer- 
ings (according)  to  the  number  of  them  all,  for  Job  said, 

*  John  ii.  1,  &c,    1  Cor.  x.  27. 


^6^  LECf  ©RE  XI. 

It  may  be  that  my  sons  have  sinned,  and  cursed  God 
in'their  hearts.    Thus  did  Job  continually."* 

In  the  "house  of  mourning,  on  the  contrary,  lessons 
the  most  salutary,  in  regard  to  the  best  interests  of  men, 
are  presented,  with  awakening  energy,  to  the  mind  ; 
lessons  which,  alas !  we  are  all  of  us  too  prone  to  for- 
get, and  of  which  the  very  frequency  of  repetition  is 
ever  apt  to  diminish  the  vividness  of  the  impression. 
We  are  there  reminded  of  "  the  end  of  all  men,"  and 
reminded,  consequently,  of  our  own.  The  tendency  of 
such  scenes  is  to  lead  ^'  the  living  to  lay  this  to  heart;" 
to  induce  to  serious  reflection  on  the  past,  and  anticipa- 
tion of  the  future  ;  to  bring  iiome  to  the  secret  medi- 
tations of  each  man's  bosom  the  prospect  that  awaits 
himself;  and  to  press  upon  his  consideration  the  all-im- 
portant question,  how  he  may  meet  the  closing  scene 
in  peace  and  hope. 

And  is  it  not  a  desirable  thing,  that  the  living  should 
consider  their  latter  end  ?— that  they  should  think,  with 
seriousness,  of  the  events  that  are  before  them  ;--of 
death,  and  judgment,  and  eternity? — No,  says  the  man 
of  this  world.  Such  thoughts  and  anticipations  are  in- 
consistent with  present  enjo3^ment,  which  is  every  man's 
present  concern  :  they  produce  dejection  and  gloom  ; 
they  drive  men  mad.  Why  torment  ourselves  before 
the  time  ?  Why  torture  the  present  moment  by  antici- 
pating moments  that  are  far  away  ? — "  begone,  dull 
care  !"  Let  us  catch  the  pleasures  of  the  passing  hour. 
Let  us  pluck  the  rose  before  it  withers.  Let  us  not, 
like  fools,  conjure  up  the  phantoms  of  to-morrow,  to 
scare  away  the  joys  of  to-day.  Let  us  not  throw  over 
our  present  sun- shine  the  shadows  of  a  future  darkness. 
—Ah  !  vain  man  !  and  will  this  thoughtlessness  prevent 

*  Isa.  V.  12.    Amos  vi.  3—6.    Job.  i.  4,  5. 


ECCLES.  YII.  1 — 6.  263 

the  approaches  of  Death,  or  keep  thy  latter  end  at  a  dis- 
tance ?  Will  it  arrest  the  flight  of  that  "  numbered  hour" 
that  shall  lay  thee  with  the  dead,  and  summon  thy  part- 
ing spirit  to  the  judgment-seat  of  God  ?  Will  Death 
spare  you,  because  you  laugh  him  to  scorn  ;  or  the  evil 
hour  linger,  because  you  do  not  prepare  for  its  coming  ? 
O  remember,  that  which  is  far  off  in  your  imagination, 
may  be  very  near  at  hand  in  reality.  Whilst  the  rich 
man,  in  the  parable,  was  saying  to  his  soul,  "  Thou 
hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years ;  take  thine 
ease;  eat,  drink,  (and)  be  merry:  God  said  to  him, 
(Thou)  fool !  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of 
thee  :  then  whose  shall  those  things  be  which  thou  hast 
provided?" 

The  language  of  Solomon,  in  this  passage,  implies 
his  knowledge  and  firm  conviction  of  a  future  state  of 
happiness  and  misery.  For,  if  death  were  "  the  end  of 
all  men,"  as  to  their  existence,  it  would  be  difiicult  to 
establish  the  wisdom  of  his  maxims.  "  Let  us  eat  and 
drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die,"  might  then  be  pleaded 
for  as  the  most  rational  principle  of  human  conduct ; 
and  the  libertine  might  maintain  a  successful  argument 
with  the  moralist  and  the  divine.  But,  taking  the  case 
as  it  really  stands,  nothing  can  be  conceived  of  greater 
consequence  than  to  persuade  men  to  "lay  to  heart"  their 
state  and  their  prospects,  and  to  provide  for  the  happi- 
ness of  a  never-ending  existence.  If  this  object  is  gained 
by  affliction,  affliction  is  the  greatest  blessing  of  a  man's 
life,  the  kindest  appointment  of  a  beneficent  providence. 
If  the  "  heaviness"  that  springs  from  trouble  issues  in 
"  the  joy  of  God's  salvation  ;"  if  the  darkness  of  sorrow 
introduces  into  the  soul  the  light  of  spiritual  and  ever- 
lasting gladness ;  what  cause  has  the  patient  to  say,  "It 
was  good  for  me  that  I  was  afflicted  !" 


264  LECTURE  Xf. 

**  Sorrow  is  better  than  laughter."  Is  this  the  senti- 
ment of  a  morose  and  cynical  misanthrope, — or  of  an 
infatuated  and  gloomy-minded  devotee  ? — Certainly  ad- 
versity is  not  in  itself  preferable  to  prosperity.  Solo- 
mon does  not  say  it  is.  But  adversity  has  many  a  time 
produced  effects  more  truly  and  permanently  beneficial 
than  prosperity.  There  is  a  mighty  difference  between 
the  Divine  and  the  human  estimate  of  things.  If  a 
man's  spiritual  advantage  is  promoted  by  suffering,  he 
is,  in  God's  account,  a  great  gainer ;  and  if  his  pros- 
perity either  prevents  him  from  thinking  of  higher 
blessings,  or  entices  away  those  affections  that  had  been 
fixed  upon  them,  he  is  an  unspeakable  loser. — The 
words  of  Solomon  express  the  result  of  experience,  and 
are  dictated,  not  by  cynical  moroseness,  but  by  genuine 
enlightened  benevolence;  benevolence,  that  is  chiefly- 
concerned  about  the  highest  interests  of  men.  The  reason 
of  the  preference  given  of  sorrow  to  laughter,  is,  that 
"  by  the  sadness  of  the  countenance  the  heart  is  made 
better."  And  the  reason  is  just  and  weighty.  The  im- 
provement of  the  character  in  its  inward  principles,  the 
establishment  and  promotion  of  true  religion  in  the  soul, 
of  the  highest  and  purest  affections  of  which  the  heart 
is  susceptible,  is  an  end  incomparably  more  excellent 
than  the  acquisition  of  any  temporal  benefit,  and  cheaply 
purchased  by  the  loss  of  it.  And  such  is  the  spiritual 
tendency  of  sorrow,  springing  from  affliction,  opposed 
to  that  of  thoughtless  inconsiderate  mirth.  The  troubles 
of  life  are  here  supposed  to  produce  sadness.  They  are 
not  in  themselves  "joyous,  but  grievous."  "  We  are 
in  heaviness  through  manifold  trials."  But  the  sadness 
conduces  to  spiritual  profit ;  and  this  is  the  ground  of 
the  preference.  When  the  Nile  overflowed  the  adjacent 
lands  in  Egypt,  all  around  would  wear  the  aspect  of 


ECCLES.  VII.  1 — 6.  265 

desolation  and  dreariness  :  but  when  the  flood  subsided, 
it  left  fertility  and  wealth  behind  it,  and  supplied  food 
and  life  to  millions.  So  is  it  when  the  floods  of  tribula- 
tion rest  for  a  time  on  the  heart ;  they  serve  to  melio- 
rate the  soil,  to  sofien  and  enrich  it,  and  prepare  for  a 
more  abundant  produce  of  the  fruits  of  righteousness: 
This  is  the  gracious  design  of  God,  their  heavenly  Fa- 
ther, in  all  the  afflictions  allotted  by  him  to  his  children. 
"  We  haee  had  fathers  of  our  flesh  who  corrected  (us,) 
and  we  gave  (them)  reverence :  shall  we  not  much  rather 
be  in  subjection  to  the  Father  of  spirits,  and  live  ?  For 
they  verily  for  a  few  days  chastened  (us,)  after  their 
pleasure  ;  but  he  for  (our)  profit,  that  (we)  may  be  par- 
takers of  his  holiness.  Now,  no  affliction  for  the  present 
seemeth  to  be  joyous,  but  grievous  :  nevertheless  after- 
ward, it  yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness, 
unto  them  who  are  exercised  thereby."*— The  hum- 
bling and  otherwise  salutary  eflfect  of  such  correction 
is  finely  expressed  by  the  prophet  Jeremiah :  "  I  have 
surely  heard  Ephraim  bemoaning  himself  (thus  ;)  Thou 
hast  chastised  me,  and  I  was  chastised,  as  a  bullock 
unaccustomed  (to  the  yoke  ;)  turn  thou  me,  and  I  shall 
be  turned,  for  thou  (art)  the  Lord  my  God.  Surely  after 
that  I  was  turned,  1  repented ;  and  after  that  I  was  in- 
structed, I  smote  upon  (my)  thigh  :  1  was  ashamed,  yea, 
even  confounded,  because  I  did  bear  the  reproach  of 
my  youth.  (Is)  Ephraim  my  dear  son?  (Is  he)  a  plea- 
sant child  ?  For  since  I  spake  against  bim  I  do  earnestly 
remember  him  still ;  therefore  my  bowels  are  troubled 
for  him  ;  I  w^ill  surely  have  mercy  upon  him,  saith  the 
Lord.'^t — '*  Before  I  was  afflicted,"  says  David,  "  I 
went  astray  ;  but  now  have  I  kept  thy  word."  "  (It 
was)  good  for  me  that  I  was  afflicted ;   that  I  might 

*  Heb.  x'l'i.  9—11.  t  Jer.  xxxi.  18—20. 

LI 


S66  LECTURE  XI. 

learn  thy  statutes."*— And  whilst  such  has  been  the 
experience  of  God's  children,  as  to  the  influence  of 
sanctified  afflictions  in  cherishing  in  their  souls  the  prin- 
ciples of  vital  godliness ;  those  that  were  far  from  God 
and  far  from  righteousness  have  been  not  seldom  in- 
debted to  them,  as  the  means  of  their  first  excitement 
10  religious  concern,  and  of  their  turning  from  the  error 
of  their  way.  Even  the  hardened  Man,asseh,  branded 
with  impiety  and  oppression,  and  stained  with  innocent 
blood,  with  whom  warning  and  expostulation  had  been 
Tain, — "  when  he  was  in  affliction  besought  the  Lord 
his  God,  and  humbled  himself  greatly  before  the  God 
of  his  fathers,  and  prayed  unto  him ;  and  he  was  en- 
treated of  him,  and  heard  his  supplication,  and  brought 
him  again  to  Jerusalem,  into  his  kingdom.  Then  Ma- 
nasseh  knew,  that  the  Lord  he  (was)  God."t 

The  "  laughter"  of  which  Solomon  speaks,  is  the 
laughter  of  the  fool ;  that  thoughtless  mirth,  which  ex- 
cludes reflection,  dissipates  the  mind,  unfits  it  for  every 
thing  serious,  and  leaves  the  heart  worse  instead  of 
better.  On  these  accounts  (verse  4.)  "  the  heart  of  the 
wise  (is)  in  the  house  of  mourning ;  but  the  heart  of 
fools  (is)  in  the  house  of  mirth." 

"  The  wise"  may  be  understood  either  of  the  man 
who  is  under  the  predominant  influence  of  that  "  fear 
of  the  Lord,  which  is  wisdom,"  or  of  the  man  who  con- 
sults his  own  best  interests,  pursuing  the  best  ends  by 
the  best  means.  •  These,  indeed,  are  properly  descrip- 
tions of  but  one  character.  The  best  and  highest  ends 
are,  without  all  question  and  beyond  all  comparison, 
those  which  relate  to  our  connections  with  God,  and 
to  our  eternal  existence.  He  is  truly  "  wise  for  hjm- 
self,"  who  "  looks  not  at  things  seen,  which  are  tern- 

♦  Psa).  czix.  67,  71,  \  2  Chron.sxxiii.  12,.  13 


ECCLES.  VII.  1 — 6.  g67 

poral,  but  at  things  unseen  which  are  eternal."  And  this 
right  estimate  of  the  things  of  time  and  of  eternity  will 
ever  be  found  in  union  with  the  fear  of  God.  The  ever- 
lasting welfare  of  the  whole  man,  for  which  God  has 
graciously  made  provision  by  the  gospel,  is  the  highest 
good  on  which  the  heart  can  fix  its  desires. — We  need 
not  be  surprised  that  "  the  heart  of  the  fool  should  be 
in  the  house  of  mirth."  The  fool's  object  is  present 
pleasures ;  and  of  pleasure  he  has  formed  a  miserably 
false  conception.  His  grand  inquiry  is,  how  he  may 
most  efiectually  banish  all  care  from  his  mind  ;  how  he 
may  drive  away  every  thing  gloomy,  by  which  he  means 
especially  every  thing  serious,  and  pass  his  time  most 
lightly  and  pleasantly  ;  that  is,  with  the  least  possible 
intrusion  of  reflection,  or  of  anticipation.  For  these  ends, 
he  makes  choice  of  the  ^'  house  of  mirth"  and  ^'  feast- 
ing." He  would  be  always  in  it,  drinking  down  care, 
and  laughing  at  melancholy.  The  longer  he  pursues 
his  career  of  thoughtlessness,  thoughtlessness  becomes 
the  more  necessary  to  his  peace.  Incessant  mirth  be- 
comes the  more  indispensable,  as  its  intervals  become 
the  more  irksome.  His  heart  is  in  the  house  of  mirth. 
The  house  of  mourning  he  never  frequents  from  choice  ; 
never  sets  his  foot  on  its  threshold  but  from  unavoida- 
ble necessity, — The  "  wise  man,"  on  the  contrary, 
is  considerate.  He  "looks  before  and  after."  He 
reflects  on  the  past,  he  contemplates  the  present,  he  an- 
ticipates the  future.  He  is  a  man  of  thought.  Feeling 
himself  sinful,  and  knowing  himself  accountable  and 
immortal,  his  state  before  God,  and  his  prospects  for 
eternity,  are  the  chief  subjects  of  his  concern.  Profit- 
ing by  the  experience  of  others,  and  by  his  own,— con- 
vinced from  both,  that  *^  (it  is)  better  to  go  to  the  house 
of  mourning  than  to  go  to  the  house  of  feasting :  that 


268  LECTURE  XI. 

sorrow  (Is)  better  than  laughter,  for  that  by  the  saclncsj3 
of  the  countenance  the  heart  is  made  better ;"  *'  his 
heart  is  in  the  house  of  mourning."  lie  goes  thither 
^''' not  by  constraint,  but  willingly."  It  is  his  choice  : 
not  so  much,  indeed,  that  he  may  learn  any  thing  new, 
as  that  he  may  have  truths  more  deeply  impressed  upon 
his  mind,  which  it  is  of  the  last  importance  for  him  to 
remember  and  habitually  to  feel,  but  which,  he  is 
deeply  sensible,  he  is  continually  prone  to  let  slip. — 
The  wise  man  and  the  fool  may  thus  be  distinguished 
by  their  respective  likings.  The  former  would  prefer 
going  to  the  "  house  of  mourning"  to  read  anew  a  les- 
son of  serious  and  salutary  wisdom,  to  spending  hours 
of  thoughtless  levity  and  laughter  in  the  house  of  mirth. 
There  cannot  be  a  more  decisive  evidence  of  folly,  than 
when  nothing  gives  any  pleasure  but  merriment  and 
frivolity.  He,  who  cannot  converse  with  eternity  ;  he, 
who  cannot  look  forward  to  death  and  judgment,  with- 
out  feeling  an  interruption  of  his  pleasure,  without  a 
cold  misgiving  of  heart  and  a  fretful  impatience  to  get 
rid  of  the  unwelcome  and  intrusive  thoughts,  is  in  a 
state  of  mind  far  from  such  as  any  truly  wise  man  can 
desire  for  himself,  or  any  truly  benevolent  man  can, 
without  emotions  of  the  deepest  concern,  contemplate 
in  others. 

"  (It  is)  better  to  hear  the  rebuke  of  the  wise,  than 
for  a  man  to  hear  the  song  of  fools." — The  "  song  of 
fools"  is  one  of  the  modes  of  expressing  that  "mirth" 
which  had  just  been  mentioned  in  the  fourth  verse,  as 
characterizing  the  "  house"  which  fools  love  to  fre- 
quent. It  is  the  jovial  utterance  of  either  the  profligate 
sensuality,  or  the  unreflecting  and  empty  levity,  of  the 
fool's  mind.  To  ''  hear  the  song  of  fools"  is  to  court 
their  company  and  participate  in  their  irrational  pica- 


ECCLES.  YII.   1 6.  269 

sures;  of  which  the  tendency  is  to  assimilate  the  cha- 
racter to  theirs ;  to  banish  thought,  and  to  inspire  a 
relish  for  dissipation  and  insensate  merriment  and  riot. 
■—With  this  is  contrasted  the  advantage  of  "  hearing 
the  rebuke  of  the  wise."    Rebuke  is  of  all  things  the 
most  unpalatable  in  itself.  But  many  things  are  salutary 
that  are  bitter,  and  many  things  sweet  that  are  destruc- 
tive.    Let  the   youth  who  feels  the  inclination  to  fre- 
quent the  "  house  of  mirth"  and  to  "  hear  the  song  of 
fools,"  listen  to  the  ^^  rebuke  of  the  wise,"  who,  in  pity 
to  his  soul,  dissuades,  expostulates,  and  reproves.  The 
indulgence  of  his  propensity  may  be  more  agreeable  at 
the  time  ;  but  the  end  will  be  poignant  and  unavailing 
regret  that  the  "  rebuke"  was  disregarded.  Be  assured, 
it  is  infinitely  better  to  choose  and  to  frequent  the  coir.- 
pany  of  those  who  will  deal  faithfully  with  your  faults,  . 
and  rebuke  and  correct  your  errors  even  with  a  salu- 
tary severity,  than  to  associate  with  such  as  will  regale 
you  with  the  poisoned  sweets  of  flattery,  applaud  you 
in  your  follies,  extol  your  spirit,  encourage  you  in  your 
schemes  of  frolic  or  of  mischief,,  laugh  at  your  jests. 
clap  your  toasts,  and  join  the  chorus  of  your  jovial 
songs. — "  He  that  regardeth  reproof  shall   be  honour- 
ed."   "  He  that  refuseth  instruction  despiseth  his  own 
soul :   but  he  that  heareth  reproof  getteth  understand- 
ing." "  He  that  walketh  with  wise  (men)  shall  be  wise: 
but  a  companion  of  fools  shall  be  destroyed."     "  Let 
the  righteous  smite  me  ;   (it  shall  be)  a  kindness  ;   and 
let  him  reprove  me  ;  (it  shall  be)  an  excellent  oil,  (that) 
shall  not  break  my  head :  for  yet  my  prayer  also  (shall 
be)  in  their  calamities.*'* 

Whilst  from  the  company  and  counsels  of  the  wise, 
and  the  lessons  of  the  house  of  mourning,  there  accrues 

♦  Prov.  xiii.  18.  xv.  32.  xiii.  20.    Psal.  cxJi.  5. 


370  LECTURE  XI. 

the  most  valuable  and  lasting  benefit, — happiness,  ster- 
ling in  its  nature  and  eternal  in  its  duration ; — on  the 
contrary,  (verse  6.)  "  As  the  crackling  of  thorns  under 
a  pot,  so  (is)  the  laughter  of  the  fool.  This  also  is  vani- 
ty."— Could  any  similitude  be  more  strikingly  descrip- 
tive ? — The  blaze  of  dry  thorns  is  sudden,  noisy,  and 
cheerful.    But,  enlivening  as  it  is  while  it  lasts,  it  is  as 
transient  as  it  is  sprightly.    It  subsides  as  quickly  as  it 
rises.    The  bickering  flame  is  soon  extinguished,  hav- 
ing only  served  to  make  the  gloom  the  deeper ;  and 
nothing  is  left  behind  but  unsightly  and  unprofitable 
ashes.  Kindled  "  under  a  pot,"  it  wants  that  steady  in- 
tensity of  heat,   that  is   necessary   to  any  powerful  or 
permanent  effect  upon  its  contents ;  so  that  even  while 
it  lasts  it  does  little  service. — "  So  is  the  laughter  of 
the  fool."    It  is   mirthful  and  boisterous,  and  for  the 
time  looks  like  happiness.    But,  like  the  blaze  of  dried 
thorns,  it  is  soon  over ;  and  it  leaves  no  profit.     It  has 
answered,  and   even  that  in  appearance  only,  the  care- 
killing  end  of  the  moment :  but  the  subsequent  dulness 
and  e7i7iui  are  only  the  deeper.   "  The  end  of  that  mirth 
is  heaviness."    And  when  the  days  of  such  laughter 
shall  be  exhausted,  then  will  come  the  sad  fulfilment  of 
the  Saviour's  words,  *'  Wo  unto  you  that  laugh  now ! 
for  ye  shall  mourn  and  weep."     Well  then   may  we 
adopt,  respecting  such  laughter,  the  verdict  formerly 
pronounced  upon  it,  "  1  said  of  laughter,  (It  is)  mad ; 
and  of  mirth,  What  doeth  it?" 

From  this  passage,  observe,  in  the  first  place,  that 
the  benefit  derived  from  visits  to  *'  the  house  of  mourn- 
ing," should  not  be  merely  our  own.  We  ought  to  fre- 
quent  it  not  only  that  we  ourselves  may  learn  the  spiri- 
tual lessons  which  are  taught  us  by  its  scenes  of  wo ; 
but  that  we  may  impart  consolation,  and  support,  and 


/ 
ECCLES.  yii.  1 — 6.  27 i 

profit,  to  its  sorrowing  inmates ;  that  we  may  wipe  the 
tear  from  the  eye  of  grief;  pour  the  oil  of  soothing 
sympathy  into  the  wounded  spirit ;  bind  up  the  broken 
heart;  draw  the  souls  of  the  mourners  to  God;  im- 
pressing on  their  minds  the  Divine  intention  in  every 
trial ;  spiritualizing  their  meditations  and  desires  ;  and 
rendering  the  feelings  of  nature  subservient  to  the  pur- 
poses of  grace — Our  owii  distresses,  and  our  own  con- 
solations, are  intended  by  the  God  that  afflicts  and  com- 
forts us,  to  fit  us  for  such  visits  of  mercy ;— to  qualify 
us  for  the  house  of  mourning;— to  make  us  expe- 
rienced comforters.  "  Blessed  be  God,"  says  the  suf- 
fering apostle  of  the  Gentiles, — ^'  Blessed  be  God,  even 
the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Father  of 
mercies,  and  the  God  of  all  comfort ;  who  comforteth 
us  in  all  our  tribulation,  that  we  may  be  able  to  com- 
fort them  who  are  in  any  trouble,  by  the  conjfort  where- 
with we  ourselves  are  comforted  of  God  !"— Thus,  by 
the  religion  of  the  blessed  Jesus,  selfishness  is  excluded 
from  every  thing.  Our  very  trials  are  not  sent,  nor  our 
consolations  under  them  administered,  for  ourselves 
alone.  To  ourselves,  indeed,  they  are  precious  and 
life-giving ;  but  on  ourselves,  whether  we  be  ministers 
or  private  Christians,  the  design  of  them  does  not  ter- 
minate. The  example  of  our  Divine  Master  is  an  ex- 
ample of  benevolence  and  love :  "  Look  not  every  man 
on  his  own  things,  but  every  man  also  on  the  things  of 
others:  let  this  mind  be  in  you,  which  was  also  in 
Christ  Jesus."*  And  even  he  is  represented  as  having 
learned  sympathy,  and  skill  in  the  administration  of 
comfort,  by  his  experience  of  suffering.  "  We  have 
not  a  High  Priest  who  cannot  be  touched  with  the  feel- 
ing of  our  infirmities,  but  who  was  in  all  points  tried 

*  rhil.  ii.  4.  5. 


272  LECTURE   XI. 

like  as  (we  are,  yet)  without  sin  :"—"  for  in  that  lie 
himself  hath  suffered,  being  tried,  he  is  able  to  succour 
them  that  are  tried  :"--"  though  he  were  a  Son,  yet 
learned  he  obedience"— the  difficulties  and  trials  attend- 
ing it,—"  by  the  things  which  he  suffered."*  Thus  his 
sufferings  were,  in  every  way,  turned  to  account,  for 
the  benefit  of  his  people. 

In  the  second  place.  Remember,  the  time  is  fast  ap- 
proaching, when  the  dwelling-place  of  every  one  of  us, 
shall,  in  reference  to  ourselves^  become  the  *'  house  of 
mourning."  This  is  "appointed  unto  all."  Neither 
riches,  nor  power,  nor  learning,  nor  love,  nor  friend- 
ship, can  possibly  avert  it.  Death's  impartial  visits  are 
paid  alike  at  the  palace  and  the  cottage.  Remember, 
then,  the  solemn  time  is  coming,  when,  either  suddenly, 
or  by  the  gradual  ravages  of  disease,  we,  like  others, 
must  *'  go  the  way,  whence  we  shall  not  return." 
The  time  is  coming,  when  we  shall  be  laid  on  our  sick- 
bed ;  when  the  messages  of  anxious  friends  shall  be 
brought  in  whispers  to  our  door  ;  when  the  parting  sigh 
shall  pass  our  lips ;  when  we  shall  be  stretched  in  our 
shroud,  cold  and  insensible  ;  when  agonized  relatives 
shall  steal  in  silence  to  our  apartment,  and,  with  gentle 
step  and  timid  hand,  as  if  afraid  of  disturbing  our 
slumbers,  lift  the  covering  from  our  face,  to  gaze,  in 
pensive  anguish,  on  our  altered  features,  and  to  drop 
the  last  warm  tear  on  our  feelingless  cheek  ;  when  the 
company  of  mourners  shall  assemble,  to  convey  our 
mortal  remains  to  their  long  home ;  and  when,  ''  the 
earth  having  returned  to  the  dust  as  it  was,  and  the 
spirit  to  God  who  gave  it,"  "  the  place  that  now  knows 
us,  shall  know  us  no  more :"— when  all  those  affecting 
lessons,  which  we  have  so  often  learned  from  the  death 

*  Heb.  iv.  15.  ii.  18.  v.  8.     • 


ECCLES.  yii.  1 — 6.  sya 

of  others,  shall  be  learned  by  others  from  ours. — O  the 
blessedness  of  having  good  hope,  in  that  infinitely  mo- 
mentous crisis,  when  we  must  part  from  all  below,  and 
part  for  ever ! — that  survivors,  whilst  they  mourn  our 
departure,  may  say  over  our  grave,  with  well-founded 
assurance,  <^  Blessed  are  the  dead  that  die  in  the 
Lord!" 

Lastly.  From  such  passages  as  this,  the  author  of 
this  book  has  sometimes  been  condemned  and  scouted, 
as  a  gloomy  and  morose  moralist,  a  cynical  philosopher, 
contemplating  human  life  through  the  distorted  me- 
dium of  a  disappointed  and  embittered  spirit,  disposed 
to  aggravate  all  its  evils,  to  depreciate  all  its  enjoy- 
ments, to  frown  on  its  harmless  pleasures, — and  deter- 
mined to  be  pleased  with  nothing.  Let  us  consider  this 
view  of  his  character. 

1.  Those  who  bring  the  charge  should  know  that  a 
difficulty  has  at  times  been  felt  by  some,  to  vindicate 
him  from  the  very  opposite  imputation.  His  language, 
in  some  parts  of  the  book,  is  such,  that  they  have  been 
surprised  and  startled  by  it,  and  have  felt  it  less  easy  of 
reconciliation  than  any  other  parts  of  the  Bible  with  the 
lessons  of  Christian  soberness  and  spirituality  of  mind  ; 
and  they  have  been  at  a  loss  what  answer  to  make, 
when  it  has  been  quoted  by  the  laughing  sceptic  as  a 
sanction  for  enlarged  indulgence  in  the  gratification  of 
a  present  world.  Now,  should  not  this  lead  both  to  sus- 
pect that  they  are  alike  misapprehending  his  meaning, 
and  that,  as  he  cannot  be  justly  chargeable  with  both 
extremes,  he  is,  in  fact,  chargeable  with  neither  ? 

2.  A  great  part  of  what  dissatisfied  and  harassed  the 
mind  of  Solomon,  was,  not  the  evils  suffered  by  him- 
self, but  those  which  he  saw  or  knew  to  be  endured 
by  others.    We  have  had  a  specimen  of  this  in  the  hr^ 

M  m 


^7^  LECTURE  Xr. 

ginning  of  the  fourth  chapter: — ^'  So  I  returned,  and 
considered  all  the  oppressions  that  are  done  under  the 
sun  :  and  behold  the  tears  of  (such  as  were)  oppressed, 
and  they  had  no  comforter  ;  and  on  the  side  of  their 
oppressors  (there  was)  power  :  but  they  had  no  com- 
forter. Wherefore  I  praised  the  dead  that  are  already 
dead,  more  than  the  living  that  are  yet  alive.  Yea,  bet- 
ter (is  he,)  than  both  they,  who  hath  not  yet  been,  who 
hath  not  seen  the  evil  work  that  is  done  under  the  sun." 
— Are  not  these  praise- worthy  feelings?  Is  there  no 
credit  due  for  the  benevolence,  which  was  thus  made 
unhappy  by  the  woes  of  others  ?  Shall  we  condemn,  as 
a  gloomy  and  cynical  misanthrope,  the  Christian  poet, 
the  delicate  and  tender-hearted  Cowper,  when,  over- 
whelmed by  the  contemplation  of  human  guilt  and  hu- 
man suffering,  his  benevolent  spirit  bursts  forth  in  the 
utterance  of  indignant  grief  :-- 

"  O  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast  wilderness, 

Some  boundless  contiguity  of  shade, 

Where  rumour  of  oppression  and  deceit. 

Of  unsuccessful  or  successful  war, 

xMight  never  reach  me  more  !  My  ear  is  pain'd, 

INIy  heart  is  sick,  with  every  day's  report 

Of  wrong  and  outrage,  with  which  earth  is  fiU'd." 

3.  When  he  does  express  dissatisfaction  with  life,  as 
to  his  own  personal  enjoyment  of  it,  it  is  not  on  account 
Qithe  evils  that  had  befallen  him.  The  feelings  which  he 
expresses  are  not  those  of  a  man  fretted  and  alienated 
from  the  world  by  the  injuries  done  to  him,  and  long- 
ing to  be  away  from  the  society  and  the  sight  of  beings 
whom  he  hates  and  contemns.  Neither  are  they  the 
feelings  of  impiety,  irritated  by  the  unpropitious  deal- 
ings of  Providence,  charging  God  foolishly,  and  think- 
ing he  "  does  well  to  be  angry  even  unto  death,"  open- 
ing his  mouth  in  blasphemy  against  the  Author  of  his 


ECCLES.  VII.  1 — 6.  S75 

existence  and  the  ordainer  of  his  lot. — The  complaints 
he  utters  are  not  complaints  of  evil  suffered,  but  of  the 
unsatisfactory  nature  of  good  enjoyed.  Of  this  he  pos- 
sessed a  rich  and  enviable  abundance  and  variety;  as 
much  as  could  well  fall  to  the  lot  of  man.  Be  it  so — 
you  are  ready  to  say, — and  does  this  mend  the  matter? 
Why,  it  is  worse  than  the  other.  We  can  find  some 
grounds  of  apology,  for  his  repinings  who  has  been  the 
victim  of  incessant  disappointment,  vexation,  and  ca- 
lamity. But  here  was  nothing  of  the  kind.  What  ailed 
the  man  ?  to  be  dissatisfied  and  full  of  complaints,  when 
there  was  nothing  in  his  condition  but  good  !  What 
thankless  ingratitude  !  what  unreasonable,  capricious, 
intolerable  discontent !— No,  my  friends.  His  feelings 
were  not  thus  destitute  of  reason  and  piety.  The  cause 
of  the  dissatisfaction  expressed  it  is  no  difficult  matter 
to  assign.  The  good  in  question  was  all  pursued,  ob- 
tained, possessed,  and  enjoyed,  apart  from  God.  It  was 
then,—'m  "  the  days  of  his  vanity,"  it  failed  to  yield 
any  solid  enjoyment :  and  when  he  came  to  himself,  he 
felt  the  cause  of  the  failure,  and  recorded  the  salutary 
lesson.  And  O  that  the  lesson,  the  dictate  of  his  dear- 
bought  experience,  were  written  in  every  heart ! — "gra- 
ven as  with  an  iron  pen  and  lead  in  the  rock  forever!" 

— that  ALL  HAS  BEEN,  IS,  AND  MUST  BE,  UNPRO- 
DUCTIVE OF  HAPPINESS,  WITHOUT  GoD  J  "  VANITY 
OF   VANITIES,   ALL   IS   VANITY." 

But  Solomon  did  not  do  the  world  justice.  It  was 
not  a  fair  experiment.  A  chemist,  when  he  wishes  to 
ascertain  the  virtues  of  any  substance,  takes  care  to 
separate  from  it,  as  thoroughly  as  he  can,  all  extraneous 
ingredients ;  that  he  may  have  it  unmixed,  and  thus 
obtain  a  correct  result.  When,  in  like  manner,  our  ob- 
ject is  to  ascertain  the  capacity  of  any  thing  to  impart 


27&  LECTURE  XI. 

pleasure,  ought  we  not,  on  the  same  principle,  to  divest 
ourselves  of  whatever  has  any  tendency  to  interfere  with 
or  to  mar  the  enjoyment  it  seems  fitted  to  afford  ? — 
Solomon  perhaps  tried  to  do  this.  But  he  could  not. 
He  had  too  much  remaining  of  the  religious  impres- 
sions of  his  earlier  days,  for  making  the  experiment  with 
fairness.  He  knew  God  too  well,— the  God  of  his  fa- 
ther; from  whom  he  had  received  the  solemn  paternal 
charge,  which  he  never  could  obliterate  from  his  re- 
membrance, "And  thou,  Solomon  my  son,  know  thou 
the  God  of  thy  father,  and  serve  him  \\ith  a  perfect 
heart  and  with  a  willing  mind ;  for  the  Lord  searcheth 
all  hearts,  and  understandeth  all  the  imaginations  of  the 
thoughts :  if  thou  seek  him,  he  will  be  found  of  thee  ; 
but  if  thou  forsake  him,  he  will  cast  thee  off  for  ever!" 
— In  obedience  to  the  charge  of  this  pious  father,  he  had 
begun  his  career  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord.  He  had  there- 
fore too  many  recollections,  and  too  many  anticipations, 
to  allow  of  his  being  happy  in  the  pursuit  of  the  vani- 
ties of  the  world,  and  the  pleasures  of  sin.  These,  in 
spite  of  him,  must  have  intruded  at  times  even  on  his 
maddest  social  hours  ;  and  must  have  armed  every  mo- 
ment of  solitude  and  reflection  with  a  tormenting  sting. 
No  yesterday,  during  that  period,  would  look  back 
upon  him  with  a  smile.— And  Solomon's  case  is,  in  this 
respect,  far  from  being  a  solitary  one.  Persons  who  have 
been  "brought  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the 
Lord,"  but  have  cast  off  the  fear  of  God  and  the  pro- 
fession of  religion,  can  seldom  get  entirely  rid  of  these 
early  convictions  and  impressions.  They  are  continually 
haunting  them.  Such  persons  are  often  distinguished 
by  the  lengths  to  which  they  go  in  vicious  indulgence. 
The  reason  is,  that  they  are  making  an  effort  to  get 
above  their  prejudices  and  silly  fears.   They  are  solici- 


ECCLES.  VII.  1 — 6.  277 

tous  to  conceal  them,  and  determined  to  show  their 
companions  in  sin  their  superiority  to  them.  But  such 
persons,  I  repeat,  do  not  do  justice  to  the  world.  Oh ! 
it  is  a  fearful  experiment,  to  be  fairly  made.  That  the 
world  may  yield  its  pleasures  pure  and  unadulterated, — 
I  mean  such  pleasures  as  it  affords  to  its  votaries,  who 
follow  it  as  their  chief  good,  to  the  exclusion  of  spiri- 
tual joys, — the  mind  must  be  stript  of  all  the  vestiges 
of  early  religious  instruction,  of  all  sense  of  God,  of  all 
anticipation  of  judgment  and  eternity  ;  the  voice  of  in- 
ward remonstrance  must  be  entirely  stifled,  and  the 
"  conscience  seared  as  with  a  hot  iron."  If  a  man  can 
thoroughly  accomplish  this,  he  will  then  have  the  plea- 
sures of  sin  in  their  perfection.  But,  oh  !  can  a  state  be 
imagined  more  unutterably  fearful  ?  Could  a  heavier 
curse  be  conceived  to  light  upon  a  man,  than  the  curse 
of  success  in  the  attempt  to  divest  himself  of  every 
principle  that  would  interfere  with  the  unmingled  en- 
joyment of  forbidden  pleasures ! 

Besides ;  the  very  persons  who  cavil  at  Solomon  for 
his  calumnious  representation,  as  they  account  it,  of  hu- 
man  life,  themselves  contributed  not  a  little  to  the  em- 
bittering of  his  feelings,  after  he  came  to  look  back  on 
his  unhallowed  experiment,  and  to  record  its  results. 
The  laughter  of  the  fool, — the  giddy  joy  of  the  vain,  the 
thoughtless,  the  dissipated,  and  voluptuous,  is  one  of 
the  most  affecting  and  distressing  sights  to  a  serious  and 
spiritual  mind:  and  such  was  that  of  the  reclaimed  and 
penitent  King  of  Israel.  Inconsiderate  sinners  may 
laugh  at  the  pain  they  give  to  the  godly.  But  the  pain 
is  the  product  of  benevolence  as  well  as  of  piety.  The 
self-delusion,  the  present  privation,  and  the  anticipated 
wretchedness  of  sinners,  are  its  source ;  and  their  wel- 
fare in  time  and  in  eternity  is  the  sincere  and  fervent 


378  LECTURE  XI.    ECCLES.  VII.  1 6. 

desire  of  all  by  whom  it  is  felt.  "  I  beheld  the  trans- 
gressors, and  was  grieved." — "  Rivers  of  water  run 
down  mine  eyes,  because  they  keep  not  thy  law." — 
O  "  be  ye  not  mockers,  lest  your  bands  be  made  strong." 
*'  Love  not  the  world,  neither  the  things  that  are  in  the 
world."  *'  The  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the  lust  of  the  eye, 
and  the  pride  of  life,"  will  all  deceive  you  at  last.  They 
will  leave  you  worse  than  destitute.  If  you  give  them 
the  preference,  and  persist  in  living  without  God,  the 
day  of  your  death,  however  you  may  flatter  yourselves, 
will  not  to  you  be  better,  but  infinitely  worse,  than  the 
day  of  your  birth.  Many  a  poor  worldling  will  envy 
through  eternity  the  child  that  was  carried  from  the 
womb  to  the  grave  ; — will  wish,  with  unavailing  regret, 
that  the  day  of  his  birth  had  also  been  the  day  of  his 
death  :  and  will  load  with  bitter  imprecations  the  hour 
that  commenced  an  existence,  to  which  he  cannot  put 
a  termination,  and  which  his  own  sin  and  folly  have 
rendered  irremediable  miserable. — Dost  thou  believe, 
then,  on  the  Son  of  God  ?  It  is  only  to  those  who,  when 
they  quit  this  world,  go  to  be  with  Christ,  that  "  to  die 
is  gain,"— that  "  the  day  of  death  is  better  than  the  day 
of  birth  :"  and  none  can  be  admitted  where  he  is,  but 
those  who  have  believed,  and  loved,  confessed,  and 
honoured,  and  served  him  here.  If  you  renounce  the 
v/orld,  and  seek  God  in  Christ  as  your  portion,  He  will 
'  come  unto  you,  and  make  his  abode  with  you."  He 
"uill  be  the  light  of  your  habitation  when  it  becomes  a 
*'■  house  of  mourning,"  and,  when  he  takes  you  hence, 
it  will  be  to  his  own  house  above,  Avhere  "  the  days  of 
your  mourning  shall  be  ended  !" 


LECTURE  XII. 


EccLES.  vii.  7 — 14<. 

7  "  Surely  op/inssion  muketh  a  wise  man  mad  ;  and  a  gifc  destrotjeth 

8  the  heart.  Better  (is  J  the  erid  of  a  thing  than  the  beginning  thereof; 

9  CandJ  the  fiaticnt  inspirit  (is)  better  than  the  proud  in  spirit.  Be 
not  hasty  in  thy  spirit  to  be  angry  ;  for  anger  resteth  in  the  boso7n  of 

10  fools.  Say  7tot  thou,  What  is  (the  cause  J  that  the  former  days  were 
better  than  these  ?  for  thou  dost  not  inquire  wisely  concerning  this. 

11  Wisdom  fisj  good  with  an  inheritance  ;  and  Cby  it  there  is  J  profit 

12  to  them  that  see  the  sun.  For  wisdom  (is J  a  defence,  (and J  money 
(is)  a  defence :  but  the  excellency  of  knowledge  (is,  that  J  wisdom 

13  giveth  life  to  them  that  have  it.  Consider  the  work  of  God  :for  who 

14  can  make  (that J  straight  which  he  hath  made  crooked  ?  In  the  day 
of  proslierity  be  joyful,  but  in  the  day  of  adversity  consider:  God 
also  hath  set  the  one  over  against  the  other,  to  the  end  that  man 
should  find  nothing  after  him." 


JLT  is  evident,  that  what  is  said,  in  the  first  of  these 
verses,  of  the  tendency  of  oppression  to  "  make  a  wise 
man  mad,"  may  be  understood  either  of  the  suffering 
or  of  the  exercise  of  oppression.-— The  former,  it  is  need- 
less to  prove,  serves  to  fret,  and  harass,  and  exasperate 
the  spirit ;  so  that  there  are  not  wanting  instances,  in 
which  men,  even  eminent  in  reputation  for  wisdom, 
have,  by  its  long  continuance,  by  their  being  the  con- 
stant victims  of  injustice,  privation,  insult,  and  violence, 
been  worked  up  to  a  pitch  of  absolute  phrenzy  ;  have 
given  way,  after  long  and  difficult  restraint,  to  the  burst 
of  ungovernable  indignation,  and  have  acted  the  part 
of  madness,  rather  than  of  considerate  sobriety.— Moses, 
describing  the  unrighteous  oppression  which,  amongst 
other  curses,  should  befal  the  Israelites  under  the  Di- 


280  LECTURE  XII. 

vine  visitation  for  their  sins,  concludes  in  these  words : 
~^"  Thy  sons  and  thy  daughters  (shall  be)  given  unto 
another  people,  and  thine  eyes  shall  look  and  fail  for 
them  all  the  day  long;  and  (there  shall  be)  no  might  in 
thy  hand.  The  fruit  of  thy  land,  and  all  thy  labours, 
shall  a  nation  which  thou  knowest  not  eat  up  ;  and  thou 
shalt  be  only  oppressed  and  crushed  alway  :  so  that  thou 
shah  be  mad  for  the  sight  of  thine  eyes  which  thou  shalt 
see."* 

I  am  disposed,  however,  to  understand  the  expres- 
sion in  the  passage  before  us,  as  relating  to  the  oppres- 
sor^ rather  than  to  the  oppressed.  The  possession  of 
power  carries  in  it  a  strong  temptation  to  its  abuse  ;  a 
temptation  before  which  even  men  who  had  borne  a 
previous  character  for  wisdom,  have  not  seldom  fallen. 
And  when  a  man,  even  a  wise  man,  exalted  to  power, 
once  gives  way  before  the  tempting  inducements  to  its 
corrupt  employment,  the  very  exercise  of  oppression 
tends  to  infatuate  and  bewilder  him.  It  blinds  his  judg- 
ment, it  perverts  his  principles,  it  hardens  his  heart,  it 
changes  his  character.  A  contention  arises  in  his  bosom 
between  the  love  of  power,  with  the  profit  of  its  abuse, 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  remonstrances  and  upbraid- 
ing of  conscience,  on  the  other.  The  reluctance  too,  so 
mighty  in  human  nature,  to  own  an  error,  produces  a 
passionate  impatience  of  reproof  and  counsel,  which  is 
proportionally  the  more  vehement,  as  he  is  inwardly 
sensible  he  is  wrong.  This  state  of  mind  drives  him 
forward  to  measures  of  new  violence  ;  the  very  opposi- 
tion of  conscience,  reacting,  as  an  irritating  stimulus, 
in  the  contrary  direction,  the  anger  at  its  torturing  re- 
monstrances producing  a  desperate  effort  to  silence  and 
to  banish  them  ;  as  when  a  man,  to  show  his  indignant 

*  Deut.  xxviii.  32—34. 


ECCLES.  yii.  7—14.  281 

scorn  of  rebuke,  repeats  his  fault  more  offensively  than 
before.  One  step  leads  on  to  another ;  till  his  conduct, 
losing  all  the  characteristics  of  wisdom,  becomes  like 
that  of  a  man  bereft  of  reason,  and  swayed  by  the  de- 
rangement of  passion. 

One  of  the  reasons  for  preferring  this  interpretation 
of  the  former  part  of  the  verse,  is  its  affording  so  clear 
a  connection  with  the  latter  : — "  and  a  gift  destroyeth 
the  heart." — "  A  gift"  is  a  bribe  to  oppression.  The  tak- 
ing of  gifts  was  prohibited  by  tht  law  of  Moses,  on  ac- 
count of  the  same  corrupting  tendency  that  is  here 
ascribed  to  them.  The  man,  indeed,  who  consents  to 
receive  a  gift,  known  to  be  bestowed  wath  such  an  in- 
tention, is  already  corrupted.  "  Judges  and  officers  shalt 
thou  make  thee  in  all  thy  gates,  which  the  Lord  thy 
God  giveth  thee,  throughout  thy  tribes  :  and  they  shall 
judge  the  people  with  just  judgment.  Thou  shalt  not 
wrest  judgment :  thou  shalt  not  respect  persons,  neither 
take  a  gift :  for  a  gift  doth  blind  the  eyes  of  the  wise, 
and  pervert  the  words  of  the  righteous.  That  which  is 
altogether  just  shalt  thou  follow,  that  thou  mayest  live, 
and  inherit  the  land  which  the  Lord  thy  God  giveth 
thee."* — "  A  gift  destroyeth  tke  heart.''''  It  operates  as 
a  temptation.  It  undermines  the  principles  of  impartial 
equity,  and  deadens  the  feelings  of  humanity  and  mercy. 
It  perverts  the  moral  sentiments,  and  leads  to  the  wo 
denounced  on  the  man  who  '^  calls  evil  good,  and  good 
evil,  who  puts  darkness  for  light,  and  light  for  dark- 
ness." 

This  view  of  the  verse  accords  well  with  Solomon's 
leading  design.  It  contains,  on  this  interpretation,  an 
additional  reason  why  we  should  not  "  envy  the  oppres- 
sor." or  covet  very  earnestly  the  possession  of  power, 

•  Deut.  xvi.  18—20. 

Nn 


282  LECTURE  XII. 

seeing  it  carries  in  it  a  temptation  so  dangerous,  an  in- 
flu'ence  so  perverting. 

Verse  8.  "  Better  (is)  the  end  of  a  thing  than  the 
beginning  of  it  ;  (and)  the  patient  in  spirit  (is)  better 
than  the  proud  in  spirit." — This  verse  appears  to  be 
intended  for  the  oppressed  ;  although  it  expresses,  at  the 
same  time,  a  general  truth.  The  design  of  it  is  to  rt- 
commQ\^d  patience,  as  a  remedy  against  the  evils  of  op- 
pression,  and  against  the  calamities  of  life  in  general. 

Things  are  better  judged  of  by  their  end  than  by 
their  beginning.  The  morning  often  lowers,  when  the 
succeeding  day  is  clear.  And  thus,  in  the  arrangements 
of  providence,  events  frequently  appear  very  dark  and 
unpromising,  of  which  the  final  issue  is  beyond  expec- 
tation good.  On  this  account,  we  should  beware  of 
being  "Misaty"  in  judgment,  in  feeling,  or  in  action. 
Jacob  said,  "  All  these  things  are  against  me  !"  But, 
though  appearances  seemed  to  justify  his  despondency, 
all  things  were  "  working  together  for  his  good."  "  Ye 
have  heard,"  too,  ^^  of  the  patience  of  Job,  and  have 
seen  the  end  of  the  Lord,  that  the  Lord  is  very  pitiful 
and  offender  mercy."  He  "  turned  the  captivity"  of 
his  servant,  and  "  blessed  his  latter  end  more  than  his 
beginning."  And  (to  quote  a  case  more  immediately 
connected  with  the  subject  of  the  preceding  verse,) 
when  the  children  of  Israel  were  oppressed  with  in- 
creasing rigour,  by  Pharaoh  and  his  task-masters,  when 
their  work  was  required,  by  the  lawless  caprice  of  a 
despot,  without  materials  being  furnished  for  it,  and  they 
were  beaten  for  not  producing  it ;  when  their  plight  was 
so  deplorable  and  heart- sinking,  that  when  Moses,  in 
the  name  of  Jehovah,  spoke  to  them  the  words  of  Di- 
vine encouragement  and  promise,  ^'  they  hearkened  not 
unto  him,  for  anguish  of  spirit,  and  for  cruel  bondage  ;" 


ecci.es.  VII.  7 — 14.  283 

all  seemed  dark  and  desperate.  But  "  better  was  the 
end  than  the  beginning."  Jehovah,  at  length,  brought 
them  out  *'  with  a  high  hand  and  an  outstretched  arm." 
He  "loosed  the  bands  of  wickedness,  he  undid  the 
heavy  burdens,  he  broke  every  yoke,  and  let  the  op- 
pressed go  free."— The  oppressor  may,  in  "  the  begin- 
ning," appear  to  have  the  best  of  it ;  but,  in  "  the  end," 
he  will  have  reason  to  envy  the  victims  of  his  tyranny. 
Not  unfrequently,  even  in  this  world,  the  righteous 
God,  in  his  overruling  providence,  makes  the  infatuated 
ambition,  the  blind  obstinacy,  and  the  relentless  cruelty, 
of  the  oppressor,  the  means  of  his  own  ruin,  and  of  the 
deliverance  of  the  oppressed  : — and,  at  any  rate,  if  retri- 
butive  justice  should  not  visit  him  now,  the  most  power- 
ful abuser  of  authority,  the  most  independent  and  ruth- 
less trampler  on  the  rights  of  his  fellows,  must  give  his 
own  account  at  last  to  the  "  Judge  of  all." 

Let  such  considerations  produce  patience  under 
wrongs.  "  The  patient  in  spirit  is  better  than  the  proud 
in  spirit."— Patience  is  here,  for  a  very  obvious  reason, 
opposed  to  pride.  Pride  is  one  of  the  chief  sources  of 
impatience;  of  that  hastiness  of  temper,  which  can  brook 
no  wrong,  which  kindles  in  an  instant  at  every  real  or 
fancied  injury,  and  clamours  for  immediate  revenge. 
Humility,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  parent,  not  of  insen- 
sibility, but  of  gentleness  and  meekness,  the  opposite 
of  quick,  and  passionate,  and  resentful  irritability ;  of  a 
patience  that  suffers  in  submission,  and  waits  in  hope; 
bearing  even  the  evils  that  are  inflicted  by  men,  in  the 
remembrance  that  men  are  but  "  God's  hand,"*  and 
resting  in  the  tranquil  expectation  that  *'  the  end  will 
be  better  than  the  beginning  ;"  that  the  providence  of 
God  will  njake  "darkness  light"  before  his  injured 
children,  and  "  crooked  things  straight." 

♦  Psal.  xvii.  14. 


284  LECTURE   XII. 

Patience  is  "  better"  than  passionate  and  hasty 
*'  pride,"  both  as  being  more  conducive  to  happiness, 
and  as  being  more  in  harmony  with  the  Divine  will. 
The  ^^  patient  in  spirit"  has  more  comfort,  tranquillity, 
and  true  enjoyment,  in  his  own  bosom,  than  the  '*  proud 
in  spirit  :"_his  self-control  enables  him  to  be  more  use- 
ful, in  supporting  and  counselling  others  around  him, 
for  which  he  would  be  incapacitated  by  the  agitations 
of  passion  :— and  he  is,  at  the  same  time,  prevented  by 
it,  from  acting  with  that  precipitate  impetuosity,  which, 
springing  from  pride,  serves  in  general  only  to  aggra- 
vate calamity,  and  to  hasten  ruin. — Besides,  patience 
is  the  temper  of  mind  which  God  approves,  and  pride 
that  which  he  condemns  :  so  that  he  who  cherishes  and 
displays  the  former,  is  intrinsically,  in  the  estimate  of 
the  great  Lawgiver,  "  better"  than  he  who  indulges  the 
latter.  The  same  sentiment  is  often  expressed  by  Solo- 
mon, as  one  of  much  general  importance,  and  of  ex- 
tensive application.  "  Only  by  pride  cometh  conten- 
tion:"— "  (He  that  is)  slow  to  wrath  (is)  of  great  un- 
derstanding ;  but  (he  that  is)  hasty  of  spirit  exalteth 
folly  :" — "  A  wrathful  man  stirreth  up  strife  ;  but  (he 
that  is)  slow  to  anger  appeaseth  strife  :" — "(He  that 
is)  slow  to  anger  (is)  better  than  the  mighty  ;  and  he 
that  ruleth  his  spirit  than  he  that  taketh  a  city."* 

In  immediate  connection  with  the  sentiment  thus 
expressed,  is  the  admonition  in  the  ninth  verse  :  — 

"  Be  not  hasty  in  thy  spirit  to  be  angry  ;  for  anger 
resteth  in  the  bosom  of  fools. " 

I  shall  not,  at  present,  enter  into  any  disquisition  re- 
specting the  lawfulness  of  anger,  or  make  any  attempt 
to  ascertain  the  precise  limit  at  which  it  becomes  cri- 
minal. Those,  I  am  satisfied,  have  gone  to  an  extreme, 

♦  I'l-ov.  xiii.  10.  xiv,  29.  sv,  IS,  xvl.  32. 


ECCLES.  VII.  7 — 14.  285 

who  have  contended  that  the  passion  is,  in  its  own  na- 
ture, sinful.  Cases  are  not  only  supposeable,  but  of  no 
unfrequent  occurrence,  in  which  its  emotions  may  be 
fairly  justified.  Yet  it  is  one  of  those  passions  for  which 
a  person  feels  afraid  to  plead  ;  because  it  requires,  in- 
stead of  encouragement  and  fostering,  constant  and  care- 
ful restraint ;  and  the  propensity  in  every  bosom  to  its 
indulgence  is  ever  ready  to  avail  itself  of  an  argument 
for  its  abstract  lawfulness,  to  justify  what  all  but  the 
subject  of  it  will  condemn,  as  its  causeless  exercise,  or 
its  criminal  excess.  In  both  these  respects  there  is 
hazard  ; — of  its  springing  up  on  improper  occasions, 
and  of  its  going  beyond  reasonable  bounds. 

There  are  two  views,  suggested  by  this  verse,  in 
which  every  prudent  man  will  be  desirous  to  guard 
against  anger ;  its  ready  admission,  and  its  long  reten- 
tion.— "  Be  not  hasty  in  thy  spirit  to  be  angry  ;  for  an- 
ger resteth  in  the  bosom  of  fools."  If  we  regard  the 
glory  of  God,  who  is  himself  "  long-suffering,  and  slow 
to  anger,"  or  our  own  personal  and  social  happiness, 
which  has  so  often  been  fearfully  disturbed  by  the  vio- 
lence and  inveteracy  of  the  passions,  we  will  give  dili- 
gent heed  to  this  admonition.  Great  has  been  the  dis- 
honour done  to  God,  and  incalculable  the  mischiefs  pro- 
duced to  men,  by  hasty  and  by  long-cherished  anger. 
It  is  in  the  bosom  of  "fools"  that  anger  "resteth.'" 
To  retain  and  foster  it  is  a  mark  of  a  weak  mind,  as  well 
as  of  an  unsantified  heart :  and  this  is  here  assigned 
as  a  reason  why  we  should  not  be  hasty  to  admit  it. 
We  should  be  cautious  of  receiving  into  our  bosoms 
what  we  are  forbidden  to  harbour  in  tliem.  If  it  be 
foolish  to  retain  it,  it  must  be  foolish  to  give  it  ready 
entrance.  David  was  *'  hasty  in  his  spirit  to  be  angry" 
against  Nabal ;  and  none  will  deny  that  his  provocation 


2^Q  LECTURE  XII. 

was  strong  :  yet  he  saw  reason  afterwards  to  bless  God 
for  preventing  the  indulgence  of  his  hasty  passion, 
which,  in  the  moment  of  sudden  irritation,  had  threa- 
tened  what  could  never  have  been  justified.*  "  Be  ye 
angry,"  says  the  apostle,  '^  and  sin  not:  let  not  the  sun 
go  down  upon  your  wrath.  Neither  give  place  to  the 
devil,  "t  The  connection  of  these  words  seems,  without 
straining,  to  intimate,  what  experience  abundantly  con- 
firms, that  the  Tempter  of  mankind  often  avails  himself, 
in  a  special  manner,  of  this  passion,  to  drive  its  subjects 
to  the  commission  of  sin. — "  Wherefore,  my  beloved 
brethren,  let  every  man  be  swift  to  hear,  slow  to  speak, 
slow  to  wrath :  for  the  wrath  of  man  worketh  not  the 
righteousness  of  God. "J 

One  great  source  of  unhappiness  in  the  world,  a  co- 
pious and  perennial  spring  of  bitter  waters,  is  discon- 
tent,—dissatisfaction  with  the  situation,  as  to  time,  place, 
and  circumstances,  in  which  Divine  providence  has 
placed  us. — It  is,  I  think,  against  such  a  temper  of  mind 
that  the  warning  is  pointed  in  verse  10th. — "  Say  not 
thou.  What  is  (the  cause)  that  the  former  days  were 
better  than  these  ?  for  thou  dost  not  inquire  wisely  con- 
cerning this." 

It  is  obvious,  that  the  complaint  here  supposed  may 
be  understood  in  two  senses.  It  may  relate  to  character, 
or  to  condition  ;  to  comparative  degrees  of  impiety  and 
■wickedness,  or  to  comparative  degrees  of  calamity  and 
suffering.  It  is  in  the  latter  sense  that  I  understand  it 
here :  yet  you  will  excuse  a  remark  or  two  on  the  for- 
mer. The  complaint,  in  what  may  be  termed  the  7720^^;/ 
view  of  it,  has  been  common,  1  suppose,  in  every  age, 
since  the  beginning  of  the  world,  had  it  all  along  been 
true,  it  is  impossible  to  conceive,  bad  as  the  world  is, 

*  See  1  Sara.  xxv.  f  Eph,  iv.  26,  27.  *  James  i.  19.  20. 


ECCLES.  VII.  7 — 14.  287 

how  much  worse  it  must  have  been.  But  the  degene- 
racy of  the  times  i  as  it  is  never  out  of  the  mouths  of  some 
amongst  ourselves,  so  was  it  always  in  the  lips  of  the 
very  generation  they  praise,  who  extolled  in  their  time 
the  one  which  preceded  it ;  and  that  again  its  still  more 
worthy  predecessor. — The  truth  is,  we  are,  on  many 
accounts,  exceedingly  incompetent  judges.  There  is 
much  difficulty  in  taking  a  comparative  view,  that  shall 
be  sufficiently  comprehensive  and  impartial,  of  our  owu 
and  other  times.  We  are  extremely  apt  to  confine  our 
estimate  to  particular  descriptions  of  character  or  de- 
partments of  conduct,  which  happen,  whether  from  ac- 
cidental circumstances,  or  from  our  peculiar  mental 
temperament,  to  have  more  particularly  attracted  our 
attention  and  impressed  our  minds,  and  to  overlook  the 
endless  variety  of  modifications  and  aspects  under  which 
the  corruption  of  our  nature  displays  itself;  to  forget 
that  in  human  society,  there  is  a  fashion  in  morality,  as 
there  is  in  every  thing  else,  of  which  it  is  the  very  es- 
sence to  fluctuate,  and  to  show,  in  successive  periods, 
capricious  and  changeful  predilections;  that  religion  and 
virtue,  though  declining  in  the  quarter  of  the  country 
which  forms  the  immediate  sphere  of  our  observation, 
may  be  reviving  and  making  progress  in  another ;  that 
when  the  prevalence  of  any  particular  vice  has  been  the 
occasion  of  injury  and  suffering  to  ourselves,  we  natu- 
rally feel  and  speak  strongly,  under  the  irritations  of 
self-love,  magnifying  in  our  imaginations,  both  the  in- 
trinsic enormity  of  the  evil,  and  the  extent  to  which  it  is 
practised.  So  much  do  these  and  other  causes  affect 
the  judgment,  that  two  persons,  differing  in  circumstan- 
ces, and  in  mental  constitution  and  moral  sentiment, 
shall  produce,  from  the  very  same  scene  of  life  and 
manners,  descriptions  so  unlike  each  other,  as  that  we 


g88  LECTURE  XII. 

shall  be  at  a  loss  to  believe  the  identity  of  the  subject ; 
just  as  two  painters,  following  each  his  own  taste  and 
fiiucy,  may,  from  the  same  assortment  of  objects,  by 
variety  of  grouping  and  arrangement,  by  the  different 
degrees  of  retirement  or  of  prominence  given  to  each, 
and  by  their  opposite  styles  of  shading  and  colouring 
present  us  with  two  pictures  so  totally  dissimilar,  as 
that  we  may  look  long  and  narrowly,  ere  we  discover 
the  points  of  coincidence. 

I  might  illustrate  these  remarks  by  an  application  of 
them  to  our  own  times,  in  our  own  country.  That  in 
some  classes  of  the  community  there  has  been  a  declen- 
sion in  purity  of  morals,  sobriety  and  moderation,  and 
personal  and  family  religion,  will  hardly  admit  of  a 
doubt.  It  was  naturally  to  be  expected,  from  the  pro- 
gressive increase  of  riches  and  luxury,  which  never 
fail  to  bring  along  with  them  a  set  of  new  vices,  and  to 
relax  the  tone  of  public  virtue.  Infidelity,  too,  and  irre- 
ligion  have  been  of  late  more  unblushingly  avowed,  and 
have  drawn  from  some  of  their  unhappy  votaries  more 
daring,  more  artful,  and  more  extended  efforts  for  the 
diffusion  of  their  unhallowed  and  mischievous  princi- 
ples, than  for  many  years  had  been  witnessed  amongst 
us. — Yet  many  and  interesting  are  the  favourable  cha- 
racters of  the  present  age  ;  and  some  of  its  evils  have 
originated  in  the  existing  good.  The  zeal  of  Christians 
for  the  diffusion  of  the  word  of  God,  and  of  the  know- 
ledge and  the  influence  of  "  pure  and  undefiled  religion'' 
at  home  and  abroad,  has  been  enlarged,  and  its  exer- 
tions multiplied  and  ardent,  beyond  all  former  exam- 
ple. And  this  not  only  indicates  an  abounding  of  the 
good  principles  of  piety  and  benevolence,  as  the  sources 
from  which  it  must  proceed  ;  but,  accompanied  as  it  is 
with  so  much  united  prayer  for  the  Divine  blessing,  it 


ECCLES.  VII.  7 — 14.  )389 

cannot  fail  to  be  productive  of  salutary  effects,  in  the 
amelioration  of  individuals  and  communities.  It  is  at 
once  an  index  of  good  existing,  and  an  efficient  means 
of  its  advancement.  It  shows  a  fountain  whence  it 
emanates,  and  it  carries  with  it,  in  all  its  ten  thousand 
streams,  a  purifying  and  healing  virtue.  The  evil  has 
become  more  visible  by  its  contrast  with  the  good.  The 
efforts  of  infidelity  have  arisen  from  the  efforts  of  the 
friends  of  the  Bible,  and  the  wonder  is,  not  that  they 
should  have  been  made  now,  but  that  they  should  have 
been  so  long  suspended.  It  is  a  trial  of  strength  between 
truth  and  error,  between  Heaven  and  Hell.  Hell  has  its 
partial  successes  and  triumphs  ;  and  the  great  majority, 
alas !  remain  on  the  side  of  the  prince  of  darkness.  But 
Heaven,  we  trust,  is  at  present  prevailing ;  and  of  ulti- 
mate and  universal  victory,  to  the  full  extent  of  the 
Divine  purposes  and  predictions,  it  were  impious  to 
doubt.  My  own  firm  persuasion  is,  that  true  religion 
is  not  on  the  decline,  but  on  the  increase,  both  in  our 
own  country,  and  in  the  world  at  large. 

Let  us,  however,  beware.  We  are  not  to  fancy,  from 
the  language  of  Solomon,  that  there  is  no  difference,  in 
a  moral  view,  between  different  periods ;  or  that  such 
difference  is  not  a  fair  and  legitimate  subject,  and  an 
interesting  one  too,  of  candid  observation,  inquiry,  and 
comparison.  And,  whilst  we  cannot  acquiesce  in  the 
incessant  complainings  of  men  who  are  for  ever  sighing 
after  old  times,  and  '^  saying  that  the  former  days  were 
better  than  these,"  we  ought  to  be  on  our  guard  against 
light  impressions  of  the  abounding  evils  of  our  age  and 
country  ;  for  evils  still  prevail  to  a  most  deplorable  ex- 
tent, and  their  guilt  is  awfully  enhanced  by  the  super- 
abundance of  spiritual  privileges,  and  by  the  very  means 
employed  for  their  exposure  and  prevention, 
Oo 


290  LECTURE  XII. 

But  although  I  have  ventured  these  general  remarks 
oi"!  this  view  of  the  passage,  the  other,  as  I  have  already 
noticed,  appears  to  be  the  meaning  of  the  writer.  It  re- 
fers to  the  comparative  measure  of  suffering  rather  than 
of  sin,  o^  natural  rather  than  of  moral  evil.  He  is  find- 
ing fault  with  a  dissatisjied  spirit ;  a  disposition  to  be 
continually  complaining  of  the  times,  as  if  in  them  were 
to  be  found  all  the  elements  of  misery  ;  laying  on  them 
the  blame  of  that  unhappiness  of  which  the  complainer 
carries  about  the  cause  in  his  own  bosom — "  Say  not 
of  the  former  days,  they  were  belter  than  these ;  for 
thou  dost  not  inquire  wisely  concerning  this.^^ 

In  the  first  place.  Thou  art  inquiring  for  the  cause 
of  what  thou  shouldst  first  ascertain  with  certainty  to  be 
2ifact ;  of  what  possibly  has  no  existence  but  in  thine 
own  distempered  imagination,  or  partially  informed 
judgment. — All  the  idle  speculations  about  a  golden 
age,  and  the  purity  and  happiness  of  the  simple  and 
primitive  state  of  society,  uncontaminated  by  the  cor- 
rupting refinements  of  civilized  and  luxurious  life,  come 
under  this  reproof.  There  has  been  no  golden  age  in 
this  world,  but  the  short  period  of  paradisaical  innocence 
and  bliss,  enjoyed  by  the  first  progenitors  of  our  since 
accursed  race. 

Secondly.  Consider  with  thyself  farther,  that  thou 
knowest  the  evils  of  former  times  only  by  report; 
whereas  of  present  ills  thou  thyself y^e/^j^  the  pressure. 
By  this  feeling  thy  judgment  is  liable  to  be  perverted. 
Or  thou  ^t-d"^?  the  distress  that  is  endured  by  others  ; 
and  distress  that  is  seen  affects  the  heart  more  deeply 
than  distress  that  is  reported.  The  sight  of  the  eye  is 
more  impressive  in  such  cases,  than  the  hearing  of 
the  car.— Thou  canst  balance,  with  an  unbiassed  mind, 
the  good  and  the  evil  of  "olden  times,"  to  which  thou 


eccLEs.  All.  7 — 14.  291 

art  not  a  party  ;  but  a  sufferer  is  more  ready,  through 
the  selfishness  of  his  nature,  to  brood  over  his  one  ca- 
lamity, than  to  contemplate  with  gratitude  his  multi- 
plied blessings ;  to  nauseate  the  drop  of  bitter,  more 
than  to  relish  the  cup  of  sweets. 

Thirdly.  In  uttering  thy  complaints,  with  a  dissa- 
tisfied and  repining  spirit,  thou  art  unwise  :  for  thou 
arraignest,  in  so  doing,  the  all-wise  providence  of  the 
Most  High,  who  assigns  to  every  successive  age  its 
portion  of  evil  and  of  good.  He  has  "  fixed  the  times 
before  appointed,  and  the  bounds  of  our  habitation;" 
and  it  is  our  true  wisdom  to  be  pleased  and  satisfied 
with  whatever  has  seemed  good  to  the  wisdom  that  is 
infinite.  *'  What  he  does  is  ever  best."  The  complaints 
of  a  fretted  spirit  are  ungodly  ;  and  the  "  inquiries"  of 
such  a  spirit  are  equally  unwise  in  their  principle,  and 
delusive  in  their  results. 

Verse  11.  '*  Wisdom  (is)  good  with  an  inheritance  ; 
and  (by  it  there  is)  profit  to  them  that  see  the  sun." 

The  former  part  of  this  verse  is  sometimes  under- 
stood to  mean,  that  worldly  possessions  are  little  worth 
zvithout  wisdom  ;  because  the  possessor  of  an  inheri- 
tance, who  is  devoid  of  discretion,  will  either  squander 
it  away  through  thoughtless  improvidence,  or  will  not 
use  it  at  all,  or  will  employ  it  for  ends  that  are  worse  than 
unprofitable,  that  are  criminal  and  pernicious — I  ima- 
gine however,  the  marginal  reading,  u  hich  accords  with 
a  common  mode  of  Hebrew  comparison,  to  be  the  true 
one,  **  Wisdom  is  better  than  an  inheritance."  The 
eleventh  and  twelfth  verses  are  obviously  connected 
together,  the  latter  being  explanatory  of  the  former  : 
•'  Wisdom  is  better  than  an  inheritance,  and  a  profit 
(or  profitable)  to  them  that  see  the  sun" — that  is,  to 
mankind:   "fo«  (verse   12.)  wisdom  (is)  a  defence. 


S9S  LECTURE  XII. 

(and)  money  (is)  a  defence,  but  the  excellency  of  know- 
ledge  (is,  that)  wisdom  givcth  life  to  them  that  have  it" 

'^  Wisdom  is  a  defence,  and  money  is  a  defence  ;" 
both  affording,  in  different  ways,  the  means  of  security 
from  the  ills  of  life.  Wisdom  enables  a  man  to  consult 
his  own  safety,  to  '^foresee  evil  and  hide  himself,"  and 
to  make  many  friends  by  his  circumspect  and  prudent 
behaviour.  Riches  too  surround  their  possessor  with 
friends  ;  they  are  a  powerful  protection  against  his  ene- 
mies, and  the  effectual  means  of  averting  many  evils, 
and  securing  many  benefits ;  "  a  rich  man's  wealth  is 
his  strong  city."  ^^  But  the  excellence  of  knowledge" — 
its  peculiar  advantage,  ''  is,  that  wisdom  giveth  life  to 
them  that  have  it."  In  this  especially  consists  its  su- 
periority to  an  inheritance. 

"  Wisdom"  must  here,  I  think,  be  understood  in  its 
best  sense  ;  as  signifying  not  mere  prudence  and  dis- 
cretion, but  including  along  with  these  the  knowledge 
that  "  maketh  wise  unto  salvation."  Without  this  no 
man  is  truly  wise.  "  The  fear  of  the  Lord,  that  is  wis- 
dom." True  wisdom  leads  its  possessor  to  act  accord- 
ing to  just  views  of  the  comparative  value  of  different 
objects  of  desire  and  pursuit ;  and,  therefore,  to  give  a 
decided  and  cordial  preference  to  the  things  that  are 
unseen  and  eternal,  above  those  that  are  seen  and  tem- 
poral ;  the  latter,  when  laid  in  the  balance  against  the 
former,  being  "altogether  lighter  than  vanity." — It  is 
obvious,  I  think,  that  the  expression,  "  v/isdom  gwet/i 
life  to  them  that  have  it,"  cannot  mean  merely  that  it 
enables  a  man  the  more  effectually  to  provide  for  the 
continuance  and  the  comfort  of  the  present  life.  In  this 
respect  "  money"  might  be  considered  approaching  to 
a  par  with  it ;  and  at  any  rate  such  a  consideration 
would  never  have  been  mentioned  by  Solomon  with  so 


ECCLES.  vir.  7 — 14.  S93 

much  emphasis.  The  security  and  comfort  of  this  life 
indeed  had  already  been  included  in  the  comparison, 
'*  Wisdom  is  a  defence,  and  money  is  a  defence,"  which 
represents  them  both  as  thus  far  answering  the  same 
purpose.  But  wisdom,  the  *'  wisdom  that  is  from 
above,"  imparts  not  only  the  true  enjoyment  of  the 
the  present  life,  but  *'Iife  eternal"  to  them  that  have 
it.  This  is  its  peculiar  excellence. — "  Happy  (is)  the 
man  (that)  findeth  wisdom,  and  the  man  (that)  getting 
understanding  :  for  the  merchandise  of  it  (is)  better 
than  the  merchandise  of  silver,  and  the  gain  thereof 
than  fine  gold.  She  is  more  precious  than  rubies ;  and 
all  the  things  thou  canst  desire  are  not  to  be  compared 
unto  her.  Length  of  days  is  in  her  right  hand,  (and)  in 
her  left  hand  riches  and  honour.  Her  ways  are  ways  of 
pleasantness  and  all  her  paths  are  peace.  She  is  a  tree 
of  LIFE  to  them  that  lay  hold  upon  her  ;  and  happy  (is 
every  one)  that  retaineth  her."*  «'  Take  fast  hold  of  in- 
struction ;  let  (her)  not  go :  keep  her,  for  she  (is)  thv 
LiFE."t  *'Thisis  LIFE  ETERNAL,  that  they  might 
know  thee,  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom 
thou  hast  sent."J  "Now,  therefore,  hearken  unto  me, 
O  ye  children  ;  for  blessed  (are  they  that)  keep  my 
ways.  Hear  instruction,  and  be  wise,  and  refuse  it  not. 
Blessed  (is)  the  man  that  heareth  me,  watching  daily 
at  my  gates,  waiting  at  the  posts  of  my  doors.  For 
whoso  findeth  me  findeth  life,  and  shall  obtain  favour 
of  the  Lord.  But  he  that  sinneth  against  me  wrongeth 
his  own  soul :  all  they  that  hate  me  love  death. "H  This 
indeed  is  true  *^  profit  to  them  that  see  the  sun." 
<'  Riches  profit  not  in  the  day  of  wrath."  The  life 
that  is  obtained  by  wisdom,  *'  cannot  be  gotten  for  gold, 

*  Prov.  iii.  13—18.  t  IblJ.  iv.  13  t  John  xvii.  3. 

'  Prov.viii.  r,2~-36. 


^94?  LECTDIiE  XII. 

neither  shall  silver  be  weighed  for  the  price  of  it." 
"What  is  a  man  profited,  if  he  should  gain  the  whole 
world,  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?  or  what  shall  a  man  give, 
in  exchange  for  his  soul  ?"* 

The  possession  of  this  heavenly  wisdom,  then,  is  the 
great  secret  of  human  happiness.  Under  its  influence, 
its  possessor  will  be  led  rightly  to  improve  the  varying 
circumstances  and  conditions  of  life,  satisfied  with  the 
wise  and  immutable  purposes  of  heaven : 

Verses  13, 14.  *'  Consider  the  work  of  God  :  for  who 
can  make  (that)  straight  which  he  hath  made  crooked  ? 
In  the  day  of  prosperity,  be  joyful ;  but  in  the  day  of 
adversity,  consider.  God  also  hath  set  the  one  over 
against  the  other,  to  the  end  that  man  should  find  no- 
thing  after  him." 

To  '^  consider  the  work  of  God," — to  observe  with 
close  attention,  and  acknowledge  with  pious  reverence, 
his  providential  hand,  is  an  important  part  of  true  wis- 
dom ;  as  well  as  to  bear  habitually  in  mind  the  com- 
plete and  unceasing  dependence  of  all  creatures  on  his 
sovereign  will:  "  Who  can  make  that  straight,  which  he 
hath  made  crooked?" — This  has  no  reference  to  the 
previous,  undiscovered  purposes  of  God,  as  to  the  fu- 
ture arrangement  of  his  providence.  These  are  no  rule 
to  us.  We  are  not  to  allow  ourselves  to  be  influenced, 
either  by  such  conjectural  anticipations,  or  by  any  idea 
of  invincible  fatality.  Our  business  is,  to  use  with  dili- 
gence the  means  that  are  placed  in  our  power  of  ob- 
taining comfort  and  happiness,  and,  in  the  spirit  of 
humble  fuith,  to  leave  the  event  to  God.  But  when  the 
event  comes,  whatever  it  may  be,  we  are  called  to  ac- 
quiesce in  it ;  not  murmuring  and  complaining,  and 
"  fighting  against  God. "  That  were  as  vain,  as  it  would 

*  Matt.  xvi.  26. 


ECCLES.  VII.  7 — 14.  295 

be  impious :  for  "  who  can  make  that  straight,  which 
he  hath  made  crooked?"  There  is  no  contending,  with 
success,  with  innocence,  or  with  safety,  against  the  ap- 
pointments  of  providence.  Our  wisdom  is  to  make  a 
proper  improvement  of  them. — "  Behold,  he  taketh 
away;  who  can  hinder  him?  who  will  say  unto  him, 
What  doest  thou  ?"  "  Behold,  he  breaketh  down,  and 
it  cannot  be  built  again ;  he  shutteth  up  a  man,  and 
there  can  be  no  opening."  **  When  he  giveth  quietness, 
who  then  can  make  trouble  ?  and  when  he  hideth  (his) 
face,  who  then  can  behold  him  ?"  "  He  doeth  accord- 
ing to  his  will  in  the  armies  of  heaven,  and  (among) 
the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  :  none  can  stay  his  hand,  or 
say  unto  him.  What  doest  thou?"* 

'^  In  the  day  of  prosperity  be  joyful ;  but  in  the  day 
of  adversity,  consider." 

God  has  given  us  of  the  bounties  of  his  providence ; 
and  it  is  his  intention,  in  bestowing  them,  that  they 
should  be  enjoyed  by  us,  with  grateful  and  cheerful 
hearts.  Joy  is  the  proper  feeling  for  the  season  of  pros- 
perity and  blessing.  Not  to  be  joyful,  would  imply  the 
want  of  a  becoming  spirit  of  thankfulness  to  the  giver. 
When  the  children  of  Israel  were  commanded  to  ap- 
pear before  the  Lord,  with  the  offering  of  the  first-fruits 
of  their  land,  the  charge  was  given  in  these  words : 
"  Thou  shalt  set  it  before  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  shall 
worship  before  the  Lord  thy  God.  And  thou  shalt 
REJOICE  in  every  good  (thing)  which  the  Lord  thy 
God  hath  given  unto  thee  and  unto  thy  house,  thou, 
and  the  Levite,  and  the  stranger  that  (is)  among  you  :" 
— and  in  denouncing  against  them  the  curses  of  hea- 
ven, Moses  uses  the  following  remarkable  language  :— 
^^  Because  thou  servedst  not  the  Lord  thy  God  with 

*  Job  Ls.  12.  xii.  14.  xixlv.  29.  Dar.  iv.  35. 


396  LECTURE  XII. 

JOYFULNESS,  AND   WITH   GLADNESS   OP    HEART,    for 

the  abundance  of  all  (things:)  therefore  thou  shalt 
serve  thine  enemies,  which  the  Lord  shall  send  against 
thee,  in  hunger  arid  in  thirst,  and  in  nakedness,  and  in 
want  of  all  (things  :)  and  he  shall  put  a  yoke  of  iron 
upon  thy  neck,  until  he  have  destroyed  thee."* 

Whilst  prosperity  is  the  season  of  joy,  adversity  is  a 
Divine  call  to  serious  consideration.  Not  that  in  pros- 
perity consideration  is  to  be  banished,  or  that  joy  is  to 
be  excluded  in  adversity.  No.  There  are  joys  which 
are  often  most  sweeth'  and  most  intensely  experienced 
in  times  of  trouble.  The  Christian  *'  glories  in  tribula- 
tion." He  is  "  sorrowful,  yet  always  rejoicing."  And 
when  all  goes  well  with  us, — when  the  kindness  of 
heaven  "  fills  our  mouth  with  laughter  and  our  tongue 
with  singing,"  we  must  never  dismiss  serious  thoughts. 
We  should  be  "  when  we  rejoice,  as  though  we  re- 
joiced not ;"  remembering  the  precariousness  of  earthly 
delights,  and  "joining  trembling  with  our  mirth." — 
But  it  is  the  design  and  the  tendency  of  adversity  to 
rouse  to  consideration.  This  is  its  proper  effect.  "  Is 
any  among  you  afflicted  ?  let  him  pray."  Adversity 
contains  an  immediate,  and  frequently  a  startling  and 
impressive  call,  to  such  reflections,  as,  alas  !  prosperity 
is  ever  in  danger  of  driving  away.  It  sobers  the  intoxi- 
cated spirit.  It  summons  back  the  mind  from  its  heed- 
less and  perilous  wanderings. — "  In  the  day  of  adver- 
sity," then  *' consider"  the  Author  of  your  trials. 
Whatever  be  their  nature,  and  v;hatever  the  instrument 
of  their  infliction,  they  are  the  appointment  of  provi- 
dence ;  they  come  from  the  hand  of  a  wise  and  merci- 
ful God, — who,  in  all  his  ways,  is  entitled  to  your 
thoughtful  regard. — ^'Consider,"   the    cause    of  all 

♦  Deut.  isvi.  10,  11.  xxviii.  47,  48- 


ECCLESi  VII.  7 — 14.  297 

suffering.  It  is  all  to  be  traced  to  sin.  Sin  is  the  bitter 
fountain  of  every  bitter  stream  that  flows  in  this  wilder- 
ness.— "Consider,"  the  great  general  design  of  ad- 
versity ;  to  excite  to  self-examination,  repentance  of 
sin,  and  renewed  vigilance  ;  to  promote  the  increase  of 
faith,  and  love,  and  hope,  and  spirituality  of  mind,  and 
general  holiness  of  heart  and  life. — These  various  topics 
of  consideration  are  fitted,  when  duly  laid  to  heart,  to 
produce  the  sentiments  and  feelings  that  are  suited  to 
times  of  trouble.  The  first,  to  inspire  silent  and  reve- 
rential submission  to  the  will  of  God,  who  is  the  author 
of  our  trials  ;  the  second,  humiliation  of  spirit  under  a 
sense  of  sin,  as  their  cause  ;  and  the  third,  an  earnest 
desire  for  the  spiritual  profit,  which  constitutes  the  gra- 
cious design  of  the  Divine  chastiser. — "  Thou  shalt 
also  consider  in  thy  heart,  that  as  a  man  chasteneth  his 
son,  (so)  the  Lord  thy  God  chasteneth  thee :  therefore 
thou  shalt  keep  the  commandments  of  the  Lord  thy 
God,  to  walk  in  his  ways,  and  to  fear  him  :" — "  The 
Lord's  voice  crieth  unto  the  city,  and  (the  man  of)  wis- 
dom shall  see  thy  name  ;  hear  ye  the  rod,  and  who  hath 
appointed  it :"— "  Who  (is)  he  (that)  saith,  and  it 
Cometh  to  pass,  (when)  the  Lord  commandeth  (it)  not? 
Out  of  the  mouth  of  the  Most  High  proceedeth  not 
evil  and  good.  Wherefore  doth  a  hving  man  complain, 
a  man  for  the  punishment  of  his  sins  ?  Let  us  search 
and  try  our  ways,  and  turn  again  to  the  Lord  :  let  us 
lift  up  our  heart  with  (our)  hands  unto  God  in  the  hea- 
vens :"— "  Now  therefore,  thus  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts. 
Consider  your  ways.  Ye  have  sown  much,  and  bring 
in  little ;  ye  eat,  but  ye  have  not  enough ;  ye  drink,  but 
ye  are  not  filled  with  drink  ;  ye  clothe  you,  but  there 
is  none  warm  ;  and  he  that  earneth  wages,  earneth 
wages  (to  put  it)  into  a  bag  with  holes.  Thus  saith  the 

p  p 


a98  LECTURE  XII. 

Lord  of  hosts,  Consider  your  ways  :" — "No  affliction 
for  the  present  seemeth  to  be  joyous  but  grievous  ; 
nevertheless  afterward  it  yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruit  of 
righteousness  unto  them  who  are  exercised  thereby. 
Wherefore  lift  up  the  hands  which  hang  down,  and  the 
feeble  knees;  and  make  straight  paths  for  your  feet."* 
—Such  are  some  of  the  many  Scriptural  addresses  to 
persons  in  adversity ;  in  all  of  which  may  be  recog- 
nized, with  equal  clearness,  its  Author,  its  cause,  and 
its  design. 

Prosperity  and  adversity  are  in  the  present  life,  and 
more  or  less  in  the  history  of  every  individual,  inter- 
mingled together.  They  come  and  go  with  a  frequent 
and  uncertain  alternation  ;  so  that  in  the  highest  pros- 
perity, we  should  never  lose  sight  of  adversity,  or  al- 
low ourselves  to  forget  how  near  a  change  may  be.  If 
we  do  forget  it,  it  is  not  for  want  of  incessant  mementos. 
In  the  appearances  which  the  world  is  every  day  and 
every  hour  presenting  to  our  view,  the  Supreme  Dis- 
poser of  events,  is  continually  "  setting  the  one  over 
against  the  other.'*  One  man  is  prospering  while  ano- 
ther is  suffering ;  the  prosperity  of  one  is  commencing, 
whilst  that  of  another  is  terminating ;  the  same  man 
who  prospered  yesterday,  suffers  to-day ;  prosperous 
and  afflictive  occurrences  befal  the  same  individual  at 
the  same  moment.  And  what  is  the  purpose  of  God  in 
this  constant  alternation  and  intermingling  of  good  and 
evil  ?— It  is,  "  to  the  end  that  man  may  find  nothing 
after  him." 

This  expression  is  obscure.  I  shall  content  myself 
with  mentioning  several  different  interpretations  of  it, 
leaving  it  to  yourselves  to  decide  between  them:— 1. 
That  no  man  might  come  after  God,  to  review  his  pro- 

*  Deut.  viii.  5,  6.  Mic.vi.9.  Lam.  iii.37— 41.  Hag.  i.5— 7.  Heb.  xii.  11, 12. 


ECCI^ES.  VII.  7 — 14.  299 

vidential  administration,  and  discover  defect  or  fault ; 
imagining  that  things  might  have  been  managed  to 
better  advantage :— this  ahernation  of  prosperity  and 
adversity,  in  the  lot  of  individuals,  and  in  the  general 
aspect  of  the  vvorldj  being  the  wisest  arrangement,  both 
for  the  glory  of  God,  and  for  the  good  of  men,  who 
need  adversity  to  prevent  the  intoxicating  influence  of 
prosperity,  and  prosperity  to  lighten  the  overwhelming 
pressure  of  adversity ;  who  require,  amidst  the  tempta- 
tions of  the  world,  to  be  constantly  reminded  of  its 
precariousness ;  and  whose  characters  are,  by  varying 
circumstances,  elicited  and  displayed,  so  as  to  make 
the  justice  of  God  apparent  in  the  final  judgment. — 2. 
That  men  might  be  sensible  of  their  entire  dependence, 
the  lesson  being  brought  home  to  their  minds  by  their 
felt  inability  to  alter,  in  the  smallest  degree,  what  he 
has  gone  before,  and  fixed.  No  creature  can  *'  find  any 
thing  after  Him,"  who  "  openeth,  and  no  man  shutteth, 
and  shutteth,  and  no  man  openeth :"  and  this  ought  to 
produce  humble  submission  to  his  sovereign  appoint- 
ments ;  seeing  the  attempt  is  thus  vain  to  ''  find"  what 
he  has  not  willed.— 3.  That  men,  impressed  with  the 
uncertainly  of  earthly  good,  might  find  their  only  satis- 
fying portion  in  God  himself;  nothing  besides  him  that 
can  confer  true  and  permanent  felicity ;  and  in  him 
enough  to  impart  and  to  secure  it,  without  any  thing 
being  sought  for  after  him :  that  they  might  be  led, 
from  choice  and  experience,  to  say,  "  The  Lord  is  my 
portion,  saith  my  soul ;  therefore  will  I  hope  in  him :" 
— "Whom  have  I  in  heaven  (but  thee?)  and  there  is 
none  upon  earth  that  I  desire  in  comparison  of  thee. 
My  flesh  and  my  heart  fail,-  (but)  God  (is)  the  strength 
of  my  heart,  and  my  portion  for  ever." 

Let  us,  from  these  verses,  learn,  In  the  first  place,  to 


300  LECTURE  XII. 

beware  o( ambition,— o[  csLgerly  coveting  the  acquisition 
of  power. — Let  the  dangers  arising  from  it  to  its  pos- 
sessor be  considered,  and  we  shall  rather  be  disposed 
to  say,  with  humble  self-distrust,  "  Lead  me  not  into 
temptation!"  We  shall  be  jealous  of  ourselves  with 
godly  jealousy  ;  and,  instead  of  being  eager  to  acquire, 
we  shall  be  backward  to  accept,  what  contains  in  it  such 
a  temptation  to  its  abuse,  and  the  abuse  of  which  serves 
equally  to  infatuate  the  oppressor,  and  to  madden  the 
oppressed.— Not  that  a  Christian  is  enjoined,  or  even 
warranted,  uniformly  to  decline  every  situation  of 
power  and  influence,  where  he  might  bring  his  princi- 
ciples  into  exercise  for  the  benefit  of  society.  No :  it 
may  be  his  duty  to  accept  a  trust,  to  which  the  voice 
of  fellow-citizens,  and  the  voice  of  providence  concur 
to  invite  him.  There  are,  besides,  various  descriptions 
and  degrees  of  power,  which  arise  from  the  relations 
established  by  nature  between  man  and  man.  With 
whichsoever  of  these  we  are  intrusted,  let  it  be  our 
prayer,  that  the  grace  of  God  may  enable  us  to  "  use" 
our  authority  "as  not  abusing  it ;"  for  in  every  case 
we  may  be  under  temptation,  constant  or  occasional, 
to  excess  and  oppression.  You  have  authority  as  pa- 
rents, or  as  teachers,  or  as  masters,  whether  of  domes- 
tic servants,  of  field  labourers,  or  of  workmen  in  the 
various  departments  of  business  : — see  that  you  never 
exert  your  power  beyond  the  limits  of  right;  for  the 
gratification  of  any  selfish  principle,  or  the  attainment 
of  any  selfish  end ;  for  any  purpose,  other  than  the  good 
of  those  over  whom  you  possess  it.  And  if  you  now 
hold,  or  should  ever  be  called  to  hold,  a  magistracy,  or 
any  situation  of  public  trust  and  influence,  let  the 
strictest  equity,  the  most  incorruptible  integrity  and 
honour,  in  combination  with  the  tenderest  clemency 


ECCLES.  VII.  7 14.  301 

and  the  most  kindly  benevolence,  characterize  your 
whole  conduct;  "  that  the  name  of  God  and  his  doc- 
trine be  not  blasphemed." 

Secondly.  Let  us  cherish  in  our  hearts,  and  exem- 
plify in  our  lives,  the  virtues  of  meekness,  and  patience, 
and  long-suffering.  These  are  truly  Christian  virtues ; 
despised  by  a  proud  world,  but  inculcated  in  the  Scrip- 
tures  with  a  frequency  and  earnestness  that  mark  their 
value  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  recommended  to  our 
approbation  and  practice  by  the  perfect  example  of  our 
blessed  Master, — "  who,  when  he  was  reviled,  reviled 
not  again; when  he  suffered,  threatened  not ;  but  com- 
mitted (himself)  to  Him  who  judgeth  righteously;" 
who  *'  was  led  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter,  and  as  a 
sheep  before  her  shearers  is  dumb,  so  he  opened  not 
his  mouth." — Cultivate  those  lowly  and  lovely  tempers, 
both  towards  one  another,  and  towards  all  men.  "  Walk 
worthy  of  the  vocation  wherewith  ye  are  called  ;  with 
all  lowliness  and  meekness,  with  long-suffering,  for- 
bearing one  another  in  love ;  endeavouring  to  keep  the 
unity  of  the  spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace:" — "Warn 
them  that  are  unruly,  comfort  the  feeble-minded,  sup- 
port the  weak,  be  patient  toward  all  (men.)  See  that 
none  render  evil  for  evil  unto  any  (man ;)  but  ever  fol- 
low that  which  is  good,  both  among  yourselves,  and  to 
all  (men):" — "Love  your  enemies,  bless  them  that 
curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,  and  pray 
for  them  that  despitefully  use  you,  and  persecute  you  ; 
that  ye  may  be  the  children  of  your  Father  who  is  in 
heaven  :  for  he  maketh  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and 
on  the  good,  and  sendeth  rain  on  the  just  and  on  the 
unjust.  Be  ye,  therefore,  merciful,  as  your  Father  who 
is  in  heaven  is  merciful."* 

*  Eph.  iv.  1—3.   1  Tliess.  v.  14,  15.    Matt.  v.  44,  45,  48.  with  Luke  vi.  36. 


SOS  LECTURE  XII. 

Thirdly.  Let  me  recommend  to  all  "  the  wisdom  that 
cometh  from  above:"— the  knowledge  and  the  faith  of 
Divine  truth,  and  the  practice  of  the  Divine  will.  This 
wisdom  is  infinitely  better  than  any  earthly  inheritance, 
than  any  araount  of  earthly  treasures,  in  possession  or 
in  hope.  *'  It  giveth  life  to  them  that  have  it."  It 
*'  maketh  wise  unto  salvation'^ — the  most  important 
end,  above  all  comparison,  that  can  engage  the  con- 
templation, the  desire,  or  the  pursuit,  of  immortal  be- 
ings.— With  this  wisdom  is  associated  the  favour  of 
God,  in  which  is  life;  and  the  "sure  and  certain  hope" 
of  an  inheritance  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and  that  fa- 
deth  not  away ;"  an  inheritance  incomparably  more  ex- 
cellent, and  infinitely  more  enduring,  than  the  finest 
and  the  largest  on  earth  ;  an  inheritance,  of  which  "  the 
land  that  flowed  with  milk  and  honey"  was  but  a  poor 
and  temporary  figure  ;  '*  the  better,  the  heavenly  coun- 
try." He  is  emphatically  a  fool,  who  disregards  this 
*<  eternal  inheritance,"  and  **  lays  up  for  himself  trea- 
sures  on  earth,  where  moth  and  rust  corrupt,  and 
thieves  break  through  and  steal." — Jesus  Christ  is 
*'the  wisdom  of  God."  The  knowledge  of  Him  in  his 
true  character  and  mediatorial  work,  is  eternal  life. 
Prize  more  and  more,  my  Christian  brethren,  this 
saving  knowledge,  and  hold  it  fast  unto  the  end ;  when 
its  true  value,  partially  appreciated  now,  will  be  fully 
apparent,  and  delightfully  experienced.  "  Will  ye  also 
go  away?"  said  Jesus  to  his  twelve  apostles,  with  the 
look  and  the  tone  of  tender  interest,  when  some  had 
*'  gone  back,  and  walked  no  more  with  him."  "  Lord," 
said  Peter  in  reply, — and,  oh !  adopt  ye  the  answer, 
and  let  it  come  from  a  devoted  spirit, — "  Lord,  to 
whom  shall  we  go?  thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal 
LIFE  {"—"Beware,  lest,  being  led  away  by  the  error 


ECCLES.  VIT.  7 — 14.  303 

of  the  wicked,  ye  fall  from  your  own  steadfastness ; 
but  grow  (in)  grace,  and  (in)  the  knowledge  of  the 
Lord  and  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ."*  <^  And  may  God, 
who  commanded  the  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness, 
shine  into  the  hearts"  of  all  who  hear  me,  "  to  give  the 
light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face 
of  Jesus  Christ !" 

Fourthly.  Let  the  mixture  of  prosperity  and  adver- 
sity, which  in  this  world  is  seen  and  felt  by  all,  produce 
in  all  the  blessed  effects  that  have  been  described.  In- 
stead of  carping  at  the  divine  arrangements,  and  vainly 
seeking  permanent  enjoyment  amidst  the  uncertainties 
and  fluctuations  of  the  world,  be  satisfied  with  what  you 
cannot  improve,  bow  to  what  you  cannot  alter,  and  turn 
for  constant  and  lasting  happiness  to  that  "  Father  of 
lights"  who  is  the  author  of  "  every  good  and  perfect 
gift,"  who  has  stamped  mutability  and  fickleness  on 
every  thing  created,  and  is  himself  alone  "  without  va- 
riableness or  shadow  of  turning." — Let  those  who 
know  God,  who  have  "  tasted  that  the  Lord  is  gra- 
cious," cultivate  and  display  tempers  of  mind  corres- 
ponding to  the  states  in  which  his  providence  alter- 
nately places  them.  Let  the  one  and  the  other  lead  them 
to  himself.  "I  have  learned,"  says  the  apostle  of  the 
Gentiles, — may  we  all  learn,  from  the  same  heavenly 
teacher,  the  same  blessed  lesson!—"  I  have  learned,  in 
whatsoever  state  I  am,  (therewith)  to  be  content.  I 
know  both  how  to  be  abased,  and  I  know  how  to 
abound:  every  where,  and  in  all  things,  I  aoi  in- 
structed, both  to  be  full  and  to  be  hungry,  both  to 
abound  and  to  suffer  need.  I  can  do  all  things  through 
Christ  who  strengtheneth  r.ie."t 

And,  oh !  let  the  man  of  this  world,  whether  at  the 

•  John  vi.  68.  2  Pet.  iii.  ir,  18.  \  Phii.  iv.  11—13. 


304        LECTURE  XII.    ECCLES.  VII.  7 14. 

present  moment  in  prosperity  or  adversity,  be  persuaded 
to"  consider."  A  portion,  in  a  scene  so  changeful  and 
so  fleeting,  will  not  do.  If  you  are  prospering,  recollect 
that,  short  as  your  earthly  life  must  be,  your  prosperity 
may  be  shorter.  If  you  are  suffering,  you  have  already 
learned  the  precariousness  of  prosperity.  "  Set  not, 
then,  your  eyes  any  more  on  that  which  is  not;"  but 
seek  for  yourselves,  "  in  heaven,  a  better  and  more  en- 
during substance  ;" — in  heaven,  where  prosperity  and 
adversity  are  no  longer  set  "  the  one  over  against  the 
other,"  but  all  is  "  fulness  of  joy,  and  pleasures  for 
evermore."  Fret  not  at  the  vanity  of  the  world.  Mur- 
mur not  that  your  prosperity  has  not  been  more  steady. 
Its  departure,  if  you  rightly  improve  it,  may  do  you 
infinitely  more  good,  than  you  could  have  derived  from 
its  longest  continuance,  or  its  highest  possible  augmen- 
tation. Vent  not  a  sinful  spleen  in  unprofitable  com- 
plaints of  the  times,  and  repinings  that  your  lot  had 
not  been  cast  in  an  earlier  and  a  better  age.  The  times, 
no  doubt,  are  bad ;  yet  bad  times  might  be  the  best 
times  for  mankind,  if  they  would  but  make  a  right  use 
of  them,  and  learn  from  them  the  salutary  lessons  of 
spiritual  wisdom.  And  with  you,  my  friends,  the  very 
best  times  are  bad,— miserably  bad,  whilst  you  con- 
tinue to  live  *'  without  God  in  the  world."  The  best 
times  are  the  worst,  if  they  take  away  your  hearts  from 
him,  and  impose  upon  you  the  unsubstantial  and  pass- 
ing shadows  of  happiness  for  its  solid  and  eternal  reali- 
ties. *'  O  taste,  and  see  that  the  Lord  is  good:  blessed 
is  the  man  that  trusteth  in  him." 


LECTURE  XIII. 


EccLEs.  \ii.  15 — 23. 

15  "  ^11  C  things  J  have  I  seen  in  the  days  of  my  vanity  :  there  is  a  just 
CmanJ  that  /lerisheth  in  his  righteousness,  and  there  is  a  wicked 

1 6  CmanJ  that  firolortgeth  (his  life  J  in  his  wickedness.   Be  not  righ- 
teous overmuch  ;  neither  make  thyself  overnuise :  why  shouldest  thou. 

n  destroy  thyself?    Be  not  overmuch  wicked,  neither  be  thou  foolish  r 

18  why  shouldest  thou  die  before  thy  time?    fit  is  J  good  that  thou 
shouldest  take  hold  of  this  ;  yea,  also  from  this  withdraw  not  thine 

19  hand  :  for  he  thatfeareth  God  shall  come  forth  of  them  alL   Wisdom 
strengiheneth  the  wise  more  than  ten  mighty  (men J  who  are  in  the 

20  city.    For  (there  is  J  not  a  just  man  ufion  earth,  that  doeth  good, 

21  and  sinneth  not.  Also  take  no  heed' unto  all  words  that  are  spoken; 

22  lest  thou  hear  thy  servant  curse  thee  :  For  oftentimes  also  thine  own 
heart  knoweth  that  thou  thyself  likewise  hast  cursed  others.^* 


"Oehold,"  says  the  Psalmist,  "thou  hast  made  my 
days  as  a  hand-breadth,  and  mine  age  is  as  nothing  be- 
fore thee  :  verily  every  man,  at  his  best  estate,  is  alto- 
gether vanity.*'  All  a  man's  days  on  earth  might  there- 
fore be  with  propriety  denominated  *'  the  days  of  his 
vanity."  The  designation,  however,  appears  to  be  ap- 
plied by  Solomon  to  that  period  of  his  life,  during 
which  he  forsook  God,  and  tried  to  find  his  happiness 
from  worldly  sources.  The  days  of  this  period  were 
indeed  emphatically  what  he  here  denominates  them. — 
In  the  course  of  these  days,  he  had  taken  a  very  exten- 
sive survey  of  human  life,  and  had  marked  with  atten- 
tion, in  the  spirit  of  a  philosophical  observer,  the  va- 
rious circumstances  which,  in  difierent  situations,  af- 
fected the  happiness  of  mankind  : — ''  All  things,"  says 
Qq 


306  LECTURE  XIII. 

he,  in  verse   15.   *' have  I  seen  in  the  days  of  my 
vanity." 

He  specifies  one  of  his  observations,  and  founds  upon 
it  the  counsel  of  wisdom  r—*^  There  is  a  just  (man)  that 
perisheth  in  his  righteousness,  and  there  is  a  wicked 
(man)  that  prolongeth  (his  life)  in  his  wickedness." — 
The  subject  here,  I  apprehend,  is  not  the  conduct  of 
Divine  providence  respecting  the  fortunes  and  lives  of 
the  righteous  and  the  wicked ;  but  rather  the  treatment 
which  these  two  opposite  descriptions  of  character  fre- 
quently experience  from  the  world :  though  this,  no 
doubt,  takes  place  under  the  superintendence,  and  by 
the  permission,  of  Heaven.  Solomon  had  noted  various 
instances,  iu  which  the  consistently  righteous  man,  the 
man  who  by  his  conduct  "  testifies  against  the  world 
that  its  deeds  are  evil,"  and  especially  one  who,  along 
with  this  character,  holds  a  station  of  power  and  emi- 
nence in  which  he  feels  his  obligation  to  act  conscien- 
tiously, without  regard  to  fear  or  to  ftivour,  to  flattery 
or  to  threatening,  exposed  himself  to  the  malignant 
operation  of  hatred  and  envy,  by  which  his  days  had 
been  at  once  embittered  and  cut  short,  through  open 
violence  or  by  secret  treachery  :  whilst  the  wicked  man 
had  "  prolonged  his  life  in  his  wickedness,"  acting  on 
principles  more  congenial  to  the  likings  of  the  world  in 
which  he  lived,  and  employing  arts  for  his  preservation 
such  as  the  just  man  could  not  in  conscience  have  re- 
course to;  so  that  sometimes  he  had  even  succeeded  in 
lengthening  out  his  days  by  his  wickedness,  whilst  the 
good  man  had  prematurely  perished  for  his  righteous- 
ness. From  the  days  of  "  righteous  Abel,"  downward 
through  the  history  of  all  nations,  facts  are  not  wanting 
in  corroboration  of  Solomon's  statement.  The  whole 
army  of  martyrs,  as  well  as  many  an  ill-requited  patriot, 
might  be  brought  as  witnesses  to  its  truth. 


ECCLES.  VII.  15 %%.  307 

With  this  general  observation,  what  follows  is  to  be 
considered  as  in  immediate  connection  : — 

Verses  16 — 18.  "  Be  not  righteous  overmuch ;  nei- 
ther make  thyself  overwise ;  why  shouldst  thou  destroy 
thyself?  Be  not  overmuch  wicked ;  neither  be  thou 
foolish ;  why  shouldest  thou  die  before  thy  time?  (It  is) 
good  that  thou  shouldest  take  hold  of  this ;  yea,  also 
from  this  withdraw  not  thy  hand :  for  he  that  feareth 
God  shall  come  forth  of  them  all." 

Persons  who  relish  not  nor  study  the  word  of  God  as 
a  whole,  have  often  particular  parts  of  it  which  they 
like ;  favourite  texts,  such  as  when  severed  from  their 
connection,  and  regarded  in  their  sound  rather  than  their 
sense,  appear  to  suit  their  pre-conceived  opinions,  and 
prevalent  desires.  These  little  insulated  scraps  of  Scrip- 
ture, misunderstood  and  perverted,  and  applied  to  pur- 
poses the  very  opposite  of  the  Divine  intention,  obtain 
a  free  currency  amongst  multitudes  of  people,  many  of 
whom  perhaps  never  read  them  in  their  Bibles,  but 
have  got  them  at  second-hand  as  maxims  of  high  au- 
thority ;  and  they  are  quoted  on  all  occasions,  and  re- 
ferred to  with  the  easy  confidence  of  a  geometrician 
quoting  his  axioms.  In  this,  and  in  many  other  ways, 
the  word  of  God  meets  with  treatment,  which  would  be 
resented  as  an  insult  by  any  human  author ;  being  made 
to  express  sentiments  in  perfect  contrariety  to  its  gene- 
ral spirit,  and  even  to  its  most  explicit  declarations. 

Few  texts  (perhaps  I  might  say  none)  have  ever  been 
in  such  general  favour,  have  ever  been  caught  at,  and 
circulated,  and  appealed  to  with  approbation,  by  so 
great  a  variety  of  characters,  as  the  first  clause  of  the 
sixteenth  verse, — "  Be  not  righteous  overmuch." — Its 
grand  recommendation  lies  in  its  being  so  undefined,  sus- 
ceptible of  so  many  shades  of  meaning ;  prescribing  no 


308  LECTURE  xtir. 

precise  boundaries,  but  leaving  matters  conveniently 
at  large,  and  thus  affording  latitude  for  every  man  to 
fix  his  own  standard,  (and  even  that  may  be  very  fluc- 
tuating,) and  then  to  appeal  to  Scripture  against  all 
who  go  beyond  him,  as  exceeding  reasonable  bounds, 
and  being  "  righteous  overmuch."  For  it  is  surprising 
how  men,  who  hate  and  disregard  the  Bible  in  its  great 
truths  and  requirements,  will  yet  quote  its  words,  nay, 
even  plead  for  its  authority,  when  it  can  be  made,  by 
any  perversion,  to  accord  with  their  own  inclinations. 
The  saying  is  a  favourite  one  witli  the  profligate, 
who,  in  cursing  the  enthusiasm  and  hypocrisy  of  others, 
vainly  fancies  that  he  is  vindicating  his  own  vice  and 
folly  ;  and  who  reckons  it  quite  a  sufficient  reason  for 
rejecting  with  scorn  a  serious  and  salutary  advice,  that 
it  comes  from  one  whom  all  must  allow  to  be — "  righ- 
teous overmuch." 

Often,  on  the  other  hand,  is  it  appealed  to  by  the  man 
of  morality,  who,  with  stern  severity,  condemns,  the 
profligate,  but  who  piques  himself  on  his  own  sobriety, 
honesty,  industry,  kindness,  and  general  decency  of 
character;  and  making  this  external  virtue  his  religion, 
though  without  a  single  sentiment  or  emotion  of  inward 
godliness,  considers  every  thing  beyond  it  as  being — 
'^righteous  overmuch." 

Many,  who  are  equally  destitute  of  the  true  spirit  of 
religion,  who  feel  its  services  an  irksome  drudgery, 
whose  secret  language  in  them  all  is,  "  What  a  weari- 
ness isit !"  and  who  therefore  satisfy  their  consciences 
with  very  flimsy  apologies  for  t!ie  neglect  of  them,  are 
ever  ready  to  pronounce  those  '''  righteous  overmuch," 
who  cannot  see  their  excuses  in  the  same  satisfactory 
light  with  themselves. 

This  admonition  too  is  a  weapon  in  constant  use  with 


ECCLES.  VII.  15 — 23.  309 

the  thousands,  whose  religion  consists  in  the  strict  ob- 
servance of  its  outward  forms,  in  their  appropriate  times 
and  places.  They  would  not  for  the  world  be  missed 
out  of  their  pew  on  a  Sunday,  and  with  even  greater 
reluctance  on  certain  days  of  human  institution.  But 
they  are  clear  for  keeping  religion  to  its  proper  place. 
This  is  a  topic  on  which  they  continually  insist ;  a  spe- 
cies of  propriety  which,  in  company  with  a  smile  of 
self-complacency,  is  for  ever  on  their  lips.  It  is  all  well, 
if  a  man  minds  religion  on  its  own  appropriate  day,  and 
attends  to  his  business  the  rest  of  the  week.  These 
things  must  not  be  made  to  clash.  "  Six  days  shalt 
thou  labour,  and  one  thou  shalt  rest,"  are  God's  own 
prescriptions :— and  the  bible  itself  enjoins  us  not  to 
be — *'  righteous  overmuch." 

But  there  are  none  to  whom  this  favourite  caution  is 
of  more  essential  service,  than  those  professors  of  reli- 
gion, of  whom,  alas!  the  number  is  not  small,  who,  dis- 
liking "  the  offence  of  the  cross,"  are  desirous  to  keep 
on  good  terms  with  both  Christ  and  the  world,  and  who 
cover  from  others,  and  try  to  cover  from  themselves, 
the  real  principle  of  their  conduct,  by  prudential  max- 
ims of  imposing  plausibility,  and  some  of  them  in  the 
terms  of  Scripture.    The  wisdom  of  the  serpent,  they 
say,  is  recommended  to  us,  as  well  as  the  harmlessness 
of  the  dove.     They  Cclfcnot  see  the  use  of  exposing 
themselves  and  their  religion  to  needless  derision.  They 
are  ever  mightily  afraid,  lest,  by  the  over- strictness  and 
uncomplying  spirit  of  its  professors,  men  should  be  led 
to  form  gloomy  notions  of  the  gospel,  as  a  system  of 
morose  and  puritanical  austerity.   "  We  must  needs  go 
out  of  the  world,"  they  allege,  "  if  we  are  to  take  no 
part  in  its  pleasures."     Under  the  pretext  of  recom- 
mending religion,  such  persons  meet  the  world  half- 


310  LECTURE  XIII. 

way ;  they  join  in  its  follies  and  vain  amusements  ;  they 
rather  court  than  shun  its  intercourse  ;  and  they  sanc- 
tion their  unseemly  compliances  by  an  appeal  to  the 
admonition  before  us ;  regarding  the  reproach  cast  upon 
others,  who  think  a  more  decided  and  marked  separa- 
tion from  the  world  their  duty,  as  brought  upon  them- 
selves by  their  own  imprudence, — by  carrying  matters 
too  far, — by  being  "  righteous  overmuch." 

A  passage  of  Scripture  that  has  been  so  much  abused, 
and  of  which  the  abuse  is  so  extensively  prejudicial,  it 
is  of  great  importance  rightly  to  understand  :  and,  be- 
fore noticing  any  of  the  different  views  that  have  been 
taken  of  it,  I  shall  state  what  to  me  appears  to  be  its 
true  meaning. 

The  whole  passage  seems  to  be  an  instance  of  seri- 
ous and  impressive  irony  :  of  which  the  subject  is, 
the  line  of  conduct  most  prudent  to  be  pursued,  sup- 
posing the  end  in  view  to  be  the  securing  of  favour, 
honour,  and  prosperity  in  the  world. — Thus  : — **  There 
is  a  just  man  that  perisheth  in  his  righteousness,  and 
there  is  a  wicked  man  that  prolongeth  his  life  in  his 
wickedness."  If,  therefore,  you  wish  to  avoid  the  en- 
mity of  the  world,  with  its  mischievous  and  sometimes 
deadly  consequences,  and  to  insure  favour,  success, 
honour,  and  long  life, — "  be  not  righteous  overmuch :" 
—-remember  that  religion  is  a  matter,  in  which  men, 
in  general,  are  particularly  fond  of  moderation;  and 
beware  of  assuming  an  appearance  of  sanctity  greater 
than  the  world  is  disposed  to  approve  of,  or  to  bear  with. 
"  Neither  make  thyself  over  wise  ;  why  shouldst  thou 
destroy  thyself?"  Recollect,  that  the  same  feelings  of 
envy  and  malignant  jealousy  may  be  excited,  as  they 
very  often  have  been,  by  high  degrees  of  superior  in- 
telligence and  wisdom.     Be  not  obtrusive,  therefore^ 


ECCLES.  VII.  id — 22.  811 

with  your  eminent  endowments.  Deal  prudently.  Be 
cautious  of  exasperating  the  jealous  pride  of  others.  Be- 
sides the  risks  that  arise  from  envy,  such  qualities  may 
bring  you  often  into  the  critical  situation  of  an  arbi- 
trator ;  in  which  you  must  unavoidably  expose  your- 
self to  the  resentment  of  one  or  other  of  the  parties, 
and  possibly  even  of  both.  And  from  various  other 
sources,  danger  may  arise  to  you.— But,  at  the  same 
time,  beware.  Similar  effects  may  be  produced  by  op- 
posite causes.  Although  men  do  not  like  overmuch 
religion,  you  must  be  on  your  guard,  on  the  other  hand, 
against  the  extreme  of  wickedness :— "  Be  not  over- 
much wicked."  You  will  expose  yourself  to  suspicion 
and  hatred,  as  a  dangerous  member  of  society  :  men  will 
become  your  enemies  from  fear,  and  will  think  they 
confer  a  benefit  on  the  community,  by  making  riddance 
of  you  :  nay,  in  the  excess  of  riotous  and  unbridled 
profligacy  you  may  be  betrayed  into  deeds  which  may 
awaken  the  vengeance  of  human  laws,  and  bring  you  to 
an  untimely  end.  Let  prudent  consideration,  then,  set 
bounds  to  your  licentiousness. — "Neither  be  thou 
foolish  ;  why  shouldst  thou  die  before  thy  time  ?"  As 
there  are  hazards  attending  high  pretensions  to  wisdom, 
so  are  there  risks  peculiar  to  folly.  The  absolute  fool 
becomes  the  object  of  contempt.  His  life  is  hardly 
thought  worth  an  effort,  far  less  a  sacrifice,  for  its  pre- 
servation. The  fool  is  easily  made  the  tool  and  the  dupe 
of  a  party  ;  exposing  himself  to  be  the  prey  of  virulent 
enemies,  or  of  selfish  pretended  friends.  Folly  leads  a 
man  into  innumerable  scrapes.  It  may  induce  him 
heedlessly  to  mix  with  wicked  associates,  and  may  thus, 
as  indeed  has  many  a  time  happened,  occasion  his  suf- 
fering for  crimes,  in  the  perpetration  of  which  he  had 
no  active  hand,  and  which,  fool  as  he  is,  he  would  shrink 


3  IS  LECTURE  XIII. 

from  committing.  And  in  numberless  ways  he  may- 
come,  by  his  folly,  to  *'  die  before  his  time." — If,  there- 
fore, I  repeat,  your  object  be  to  shun  the  world's  enmity, 
with  its  possible  and  probable  effects,  and  to  secure  the 
world's  favour,  with  its  desirable  accompaniments  and 
consequences,  take  care  of  these  extremes  ; — as  "  there 
is  a  just  (man)  that  perisheth  in  his  righteousness, — be 
not  righteous  overmuch,  neither  make  thyself  over- 
wise  ;  why  shouldst  thou  destroy  thyself?"— and  though 
'*a  wicked  (man")  may,  and  sometimes  does,  "  prolong 
(his  life)  in  his  wickedness,"  yet  "  be  not  overmuch 
wicked,  neither  be  thou  foolish ;  why  shouldst  thou  die 
before  thy  time  ?" 

AH  Scripture  irony  is  serious,  and  intended  to  im- 
press on  the  mind  important  lessons.  The  passage  is, 
in  this  respect,  similar  to  that  striking  one  towards  the 
close  of  the  book  :  "  Rejoice,  O  young  man,  in  thy 
youth,  and  let  thy  heart  cheer  thee  in  the  days  of  thy 
youth,  and  walk  in  the  ways  of  thy  heart,  and  in  the 
sight  of  thine  eyes : — but  know  thou  that  for  all  these 
things  God  will  bring  thee  into  judgment." — So  here, 
the  admonition  closes  with  an  impressive  recommenda- 
tion of  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  as  the  best  and  only  means 
of  inspiring  true  peace  and  tranquil  security  of  mind, 
as  a  sovereign  antidote  against  the  fear  of  man,  and  a 
powerful  incentive  to  the  faithful  and  firm  discharge  of 
duty  in  every  situation  : — -Verse  18.  "  (It  is)  good  that 
thou  shouldst  take  hold  of  this ;  yea,  also  from  this  with- 
draw not  thy   hand:   for  he   that   feareth   God 

SHALL  COME  FORTH  OF  THEM  ALL." 

"  It  is  good,"— supremely  good  and  advantageous, 
"  that  thou  shouldst  lay  hold  on  this," — that  is,  on  what 
I  am  now  about  to  mention  ;  ''  yea,  also  from  this  with- 
draw not  thy  hand, "—that  is,  let  this  antidote  against 


ECCLES.  VII.  15 — 22.  319 

the  perils  of  an  evil  world,  and  against  the  fear  of  man, 
which  so  often  brings  a  snare,  be  the  subject  of  thy 
constant  and  attentive  remembrance,  the  object  of  thy 
supreme  and  unceasing  desire,  and  of  thine  unabating 
endeavours  after  its  thorough  attainment  and  its  per- 
manent influence ; — *'  for  he  that  feareth  God  shall  come 
forth  of  them  all."  Instead  of  adopting  any  of  the  max- 
ims, or  following  any  of  the  schemes,  of  a  carnal  policy 
and  worldly  wisdom,  "  be  thou  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord 
all  the  day  long:"  "  Sanctify  the  Lord  God  in  your 
heart ;  let  him  be  your  fear,  and  let  him  be  your  dread : 
and  He  shall  be  for  a  sanctuary."  He  shall  be  thy  for- 
tress and  strong  tower  ;  so  that  thou  shalt  not  need  to 
be  afraid  of  what  man  can  do  unto  thee.  "  Thou  shalt 
dwell  on  high  ;  and  thy  place  of  defence  shall  be  the 
munition  of  rocks."  '^He  that  dwelleth  in  the  secret 
place  of  the  Most  High,  shall  abide  under  the  shadow 
of  the  Almighty.  I  will  say  of  the  Lord,  (He  is)  my 
refuge  and  my  fortress  ;  my  God,  in  him  will  I  trust. 
He  shall  cover  thee  with  his  feathers,  and  under  his 
wings  shalt  thou  trust :  his  truth  (shall  be  thy)  shield 
and  buckler."*  "  Fear  not  them  who  kill  the  body, 
but  are  not  able  to  kill  the  soul :  but  rather  fear  him, 
who  is  able  to  destroy  both  soul  and  body  in  hell. 
Are  not  two  sparrows  sold  for  a  farthing  ?  and  one  of 
them  shall  not  fall  to  the  ground  without  your  Father. 
But  the  very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all  numbered.  Fear 
ye  not  therefore,  ye  are  of  more  value  than  many  spar- 
rows."! 

The  nineteenth  verse  may  be  connected  with  this, 
as  containing  an  amplification  of  the  idea  expressed  in 
the  latter  part  of  it.  "  Wisdom  strengtheneth  the  wise 
more  than  ten  mighty  men  who  are  in  the  city."  "  Wis- 

*  Psal.  xcl .  1,  2,  4.  t  Matt.  x.  2£— 3 1 : 

Rr 


S14  LECTURE  XIII. 

dom," — that  is,  this  v/isdom,  the  fear  of  God,  declared 
in  other  places  to  be  wisdom,  and  the  beginning  of  wis- 
dom,—this  wisdom  *«  strengtheneth  the  wise:"  it  for- 
tifies and  invigorates  the  soul ;  it  elevates  it  above  every 
other  fear  ;  it  inspires  the  heart  with  a  firm  feeling  of  se- 
curity, and  with  resolute,  undaunted  courage  in  the 
path  of  duty,  however  beset  with  enemies  and  ob- 
structed by  difficulties.  "  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  per- 
fect peace,  whose  mind  is  stayed  on  thee,  because  he 
trusteth  in  thee."  "  Wisdom  strengtheneth  the  wise 
more," — imparts  to  them  more  of  inward  confidence^ 
and  of  real  safety,  *'  than  ten  mighty  men,"  ten  experi- 
enced and  skilful,  powerful  and  intrepid  leaders ;  or, 
understanding  the  number  ten  as  a  definite  for  an  inde- 
finite, more  than  any  number  of  valiant  warriors,  '^  who 
are  in  the  city,"  can  give  to  its  inhabitants  when  invested 
by  a  beslcglijg  foe.  Such  a  city  may  be  deemed  secure, 
when  so  defended :  but  the  fear  of  God  is  a  still  stronger 
and  surer  defence  to  them  who  put  their  trust  in  his 
power  and  mercy. — Or,  supposing  the  *'  ten  mighty 
men  who  are  in  the  city,"  to  be  the  foes  of  "  him  who 
fears  God,"  wisdom  makes  him  stronger  than  his  ene- 
mies, gives  him  fortitude  of  mind  against  them,  how- 
ever numerous  and  however  mighty.  He  that  is  with 
him  is  more  than  all  that  can  be  against  him  ;  so  that 
he  may  say,  with  the  Psalmist,  "  Though  a  host  should 
encamp  against  me,  my  heart  shall  not  fear ;  though 
war  should  rise  against  me,  in  this  will  I  be  confident :" 
*'  1  laid  me  down  and  slept ;  I  awaked,  for  the  Lord 
sustained  me  :  I  will  not  be  afraid  of  ten  thousands  of 
people,  that  have  set  themselves  against  me  round 
about,"  The  felt  security  of  those  who  are  under  the 
special  protecting  care  of  the  Almighty,  is  finely  repre- 
sented by  the  case  of  the  prophet  Elisha,  when  sur- 


EGGLES.  VII.   15 22.  315 

rounded  in  Dothan  by  the  host  of  the  king  of  Syria. 
When  his  servant,  on  rising  in  the  morning,  saw  the 
city  invested  on  all  sides  with  horses  and  chariots,  he 
said,  with  a  fearful  heart,  "  Alas  !  my  master,  how  shall 
we  do  ?"  Elisha  answered,  "  Fear  not ;  for  they  that  be 
with  us,  are  more  than  they  that  be  with  them."  And 
he  prayed,  and  said,  "  Lord,  1  pray  thee,  open  his  eyes 
that  he  may  see.  And  the  Lord  opened  the  eyes  of  the 
young  man,  and  he  saw :  and  behold  the  mountain  was 
full  of  horses  and  chariots  of  fire  round  about  Elisha." 
This  host  of  the  Lord  was  unseen  but  by  the  eye  of 
faith.  To  the  mind  of  the  prophet  it  imparted  the  most 
fearless  composure,  under  circumstances  in  which,  to 
the  eye  of  sense,  his  destruction  must  have  seemed 
inevitable.* 

In  vindication  of  the  general  principle  which  I  have 
adopted  for  the  explanation  of  this  passage,  let  it  now 
be  observed,  in  the  first  place  :  The  motives  which  So- 
lomon employs  to  recommend  and  enforce  his  advice, 
evidently  show,  that  in  the  fifteenth  verse,  when  he 
speaks  of  "  a  righteous  man  perishing  in  his  righteous- 
ness, and  a  wicked  man  prolonging  his  life  in  his  wick- 
edness," he  refers  not  directly  to  the  conduct  of  provi- 
dence, but  to  the  consequences  arising  to  the  righteous 
and  the  wicked,  from  the  feelings  of  mankind  towards 
them  :  for,  in  the  ordinary  administration  of  God,  the 
duration  of  human  life  does  not  appear  to  be  at  all  regu- 
lated by  the  characters  of  men. 

Secondly.  If  the  counsel,  "  Be  not  righteous  over- 
much" means,  that  it  is  our  duty  to  be  righteous,  but 
that  we  should  beware  of  excess  in  righteousness ;  then 
the  opposite  counsel,  **  Be  not  overmuch  wicked,"  if 
taken  seriously,  (that  is,  as  having  nothing  in  it  of  the 

♦  2  Kings  vi.  15—17. 


316  LECTURE  XIII. 

nature  of  irony,)  must,  on  the  same  principle  of  inter- 
pr-etation,  be  understood  to  signify,  that  we  may  be 
wicked,  provided  we  take  due  care  not  to  exceed^  or  to 
go  beyond  bounds  in  our  wickedness.  But  this  surely 
can  never  be  the  counsel  of  the  word  of  God.  Every 
reader  of  the  bible  will  be  instantly  sensible  how  much 
it  is  out  of  unison  with  the  universal  tenor  of  its  senti- 
inent  and  phraseology. 

Thirdly.  Right eousness,  when  opposed,  as  it  is  here, 
to  wickedness,  usually  means,  in  Scripture  language, 
true  religion  in  general,  in  all  its  various  branches,  of 
principle  and  of  practice  ;  the  eiuire  profession  and 
course  of  conduct  of  a  good  man.  In  this  enlarged  sense 
I  understand  it  here  ;  and  this  makes  me  dissatisfied 
with  other  interpretations  of  the  passage. 

Some  consider  righteousness  as  referring  particularly 
to  the  exercise  o^ justice^  and  the  admonition  not  to  be 
righteous  overmuch,  as  a  caution  against  the  over-rigid 
application  of  the  principles  of  equity,  pressing  every 
thing  to  an  extreme,  never  tempering  justice  with  cle- 
mency, but  exacting  satisfaction  and  punishment,  with- 
out mercy,  on  all  occasions,  even  for  the  most  trivial 
faults. — But  if  righteousness  mean  simply  justice,  then 
wickedness  must  mean  simply  injustice;  and  if  "be 
not  righteous  overmuch"  be  a  warning  against  the  ex- 
treme of  justice,  '*  be  not  overmuch  wicked"  must  be 
a  warning  against  the  extreme  of  injustice;  a  warning 
which  we  certainly  should  not  expect  to  find  in  that 
book,  which  admits  of  no  compromise  between  right 
and  wrong,  and  whose  sentence  is,  "  He  that  is  faithful 
in  that  which  is  least  is  faithful  also  in  much  ;  and  he 
that  is  unjust  in  the  least  is  unjust  also  in  much."* — ■ 
Those  who  have  adopted  the  interpretation  I  am  speak- 

*  Luke  xvi.  10. 


ECCLES.  vn.  15 — S3.  317 

ing  of  have  not,  I  think,  sufficiently  attended  to  the 
antithesis  in  the  passage ;  nor  duly  considered,  that  the 
true  principle  of  interpretation,  whatever  it  may  be, 
ought  to  apply,  with  equal  fairness  and  ease,  to  both 
sides  of  it.  There  is  reason,  indeed,  to  think,  that  the 
counsel  "  be  not  righteous  overmuch"  is  quoted  by 
multitudes  without  the  most  distant  recollection,  and 
by  not  a  few  without  even  the  knowledge,  of  its  being 
followed  immediately  by  the  admonition  not  to  be 
*'  overmuch  wicked." 

Others,  understanding  the  terms  "  righteous"  and 
**  wicked,"  as  I  think  they  ought  to  be  understood,  in 
their  more  general  acceptation,  and  at  the  same  time 
conceiving  "  Be  not  righteous  overmuch"  to  be  Solo- 
mon's serious  counsel,  cannot,  however,  deny,  that  of 
true  righteousness,  of  real  religion,  of  genuine  unsophis- 
ticated goodness,  there  cannot  be  excess.  They  arc, 
therefore,  under  the  necessity  of  qualifying  and  restrict- 
ing after  all. — Some  of  them  explain  the  words  as  a  cau- 
tion agSLinst  intemperate  zeal,  exerting  itself  indiscreetly, 
contentiously,  and  to  the  injury  of  religion  :— some, 
as  a  warning  against  a  blind  and  bigotted  superstition^ 
displaying  itself  in  an  excessive  attachment  to  rites  and 
ceremonies  of  human  invention,  or  even,  it  may  be,  to 
external  institutions  of  Divine  appointment,  whilst  the 
spirit  of  vital  godliness  is  entirely  or  in  a  great  measure 
overlooked  :~others  as  an  admonition  against  a  needless 
scrupulosity  about  trifles  ;  a  want  of  proper  discrimina- 
tion between  smaller  and  greater  matters,  between  what 
have  been  termed  essentials,  and  non-essentials ;  from 
which  have  arisen  the  hottest  contentions,  and  number- 
less unnecessary  schisms. 

Of  all  these,  and  other  interpretations  of  a  similar 
kind  that  might  be  noticed,  it  may  be  observed  in  ge- 


318  LECTURE  XIII. 

neral : — First,  that  these  things  are  not  properly  righ- 
teousness ;  but  the  mere  adjuncts,  and  unjustifiable 
accompaniments  or  counterfeits  of  righteousness  :  and 
secondly,  that  if  such  things  are  meant  in  the  exhor- 
tation, ^'  I3e  not  righteous  overmuch,"  if  will  follow, 
that  what  is  said,  in  the  verse  preceding,  of  "  the  righ- 
teous man  perishing  in  his  righteousness,"  must  be 
considered  as  expressing,  not  the  consequence  of  his 
real  godliness  itself,  but  of  his  imprudent  profession 
and  practice,  or  his  needlessly  ostentatious  display,  of 
it.  But  this  certainly  is  not  what  Solomon  means,  when 
he  contrasts  the  "  righteous  perishing  in  his  righteous-  \ 
ness,"  and  the  "  wicked  prolonging  his  life  in  his 
wickedness." 

Considering  righteousness,  then,  in  its  proper  sense, 
in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  generally  used  in  the  Bible, 
I  must  repeat  what  has  before  been  hinted,  that  no  man 
who  is  conversant  in  the  contents  of  that  blessed  vo- 
lume, can  for  a  moment  admit  the  idea  of  its  containing 
a  caution  against  the  excess  of  it ;— the  excess  of  true 
religion  and  moral  obedience.  Were  such  excess  pos- 
sible, surely  it  is  not  the  side  on  which  we  are  in  dan- 
ger of  erring,  and  require  to  be  seriously  admonished. 
—Shall  we  warn  him  against  too  much  spirituality  of 
mind,  who  feels  himself  by  nature  "  carnal,  sold  under 
sin,"  and  in  whose  bosom  the  "  law  of  sin"  is  inces- 
santly striving  against  the  *'  law  of  his  mind  ?"  Shall 
we  put  him  on  his  guard  against  allowing  the  love  of 
God,  the  comprehensive  principle  of  all  righteousness, 
to  occupy  too  much  of  his  heart,  whose  nature  is  en- 
mity against  him?  Shall  we  caution  against  looking 
too  constantly  at  the  things  which  are  unseen  and  eter- 
nal, a  creature  whose  propensities  are  so  powerful  to 
seek  his  portion  in  the  things  that  are  seen  and  tempo v 


ECCLES.  vir.  15 — 22.  319 

ral ;  who  feels  his  affections  drawn  downward,  and  bound 
to  the  earth  ?  How  preposterous  the  thought,  of  warning 
a  sinful  creature  against  the  excess  of  holiness !  a  selfish 
creature  against  the  excess  of  benevolence  and  integrity ! 
an  earthly-minded  creature  against  too  intimate  fellow- 
ship with  heaven !  a  creature  surrounded  with  tempta- 
tions to  equivocate  between  God  and  the  world,  and 
who  carries  about  within  him  principles  of  the  old  man, 
to  which,  alas  !  these  temptations  are  too  congenial, 
against  a  profession  and  conduct  too  decided  on  the 
part  of  God  and  of  godliness  !  a  creature  who  is  so 
much  in  danger  of  seeking  glory  from  men,  against 
estimating  too  highly  or  coveting  too  eagerly,  the  ho- 
nour that  Cometh  from  God  only  !  a  creature,  in  a  word, 
that  has  so  many  sadly  prevailing  tendencies  to  the  en- 
tire dereliction  of  righteousness,  against  being  "  righ- 
teous overmuch  !" 

Lastly/.  The  whole  of  the  language  of  the  Divine 
word,  in  describing  the  character  at  which  God's  peo- 
ple ought  continually  to  aim,  is  fitted  to  impress  on 
every  mind  the  impossibility  of  the  dreaded  excess, — 
of  being  ^'  righteous  overmuch."  Let  a  few  passages 
suffice  as  a  specimen  of  many.—^^  If  any  man  (be)  in 
Christ ;  (he  is)  a  new  creature  :  old  things  are  passed 
away  ;  behold  all  things  are  become  new."  ^'  Whoso- 
ever  hath  this  hope  in  him,"  (in  Christ;  namely,  the 
hope  of  seeing  him  as  he  is  and  being  like  him,)  *'  pu- 
rifieth  himself  even  as  he  is  pure  ."  "  Brethren,  I  count 
not  myself  to  have  apprehended  :  but  (this)  one  thing 
(I  do:)  forgetting  the  things  which  are  behind,  and 
reaching  forth  unto  those  things  which  are  before,  I 
press  toward  the  mark,  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling 
of  God  in  Christ  Jesus."  "  Set  your  affections  on  things 
above,  not  on  things  on  the  earth."   "I  beseech  you, 


330  LECTURE  XIII. 

therefore,  brethren,  by  the  mercies  of  God  that  ye  pre» 
sent  your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  unto 
God,  (which  is)  your  reasonable  service  :  and  be  jiot 
conformed  to  this  world,  but  be  ye  transformed  by  the 
renewing  of  your  minds,  that  ye  may  prove  what  (is) 
the  good  and  acceptable  and  perfect  will  of  God." 
"  They  that  are  Christ's  have  crucified  the  flesh,  with 
the  affections  and  lusts."  "  Love  not  the  world,  neither 
the  things  (that  are)  in  the  world ;  for  if  any  man  love 
the  world,  the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  him."  "  Ye 
cannot  serve  God  and  mammon."  "  The  friendship  of 
the  world  is  enmity  with  God :  whosoever  therefore 
will  be  a  friend  of  the  world,  is  the  enemy  of  God." 
"  Having  therefore  these  promises,  dearly  beloved,  let 
us  cleanse  ourselves  from  all  pollution  of  the  flesh  and 
spirit,  perfecting  holiness  in  the  fear  of  God."  "  Giv- 
ing all  diligence,  add  to  your  faith,  fortitude,  and  to  for- 
titude, knowledge;  and  to  knowledge,  temperance  ;  and 
to  temperance,  patience ;  and  to  patience,  godliness  : 
and  to  godliness,  brotherly-kindness ;  and  to  brotherly- 
kindness,  charity."  "For  none  of  us  liveth  to  himself, 
and  none  of  us  dieth  to  himself:  for  whether  we  live, 
we  live  unto  the  Lord,  and  whether  we  die,  we  die  unto 
the  Lord, :  whether  we  live,  therefore,  or  die,  we  are 
the  Lord's."* — These  passages,  which  are  only  an  ex- 
emplification of  the  current  phraseology  of  the  Bible  on 
the  subject  of  Christian  holiness,  express  a  spirituality, 
a  decision  and  self-denial,  a  universality,  perseverance, 
and  progress,  of  practical  obedience,  utterly  inconsis- 
tent with  any  cautions  against  the  danger  of  excess,  and 
admonitions  to  moderation.  Of  such  sedatives,  alas  I 
we  stand  not  in  need.    All  the  exciting  stimulants  that 

*  2  Cor.  V.  17.  1  John  ill.  3.  Phil.  iii.  13,  14.  Col.  iii.  2.  Rom,  xii.  1,  2. 
Gal.  V.  24.  1  John  ii.  15.  MuXt.  vi.  24.  James  iv.  4.  2  Cor.  vii.  1 
2  Pet.  i.  5—7.    Rom.  xiv.  7,  S. 


ECCLi*'.  vir.  15 — 22.  321 

can  be  applied  to  our  minds,  are  few  enough,  and  weak 
enough,  to  keep  us  on  the  alert  against  the  temptations 
of  the  world,  and  live  to  the  great  ends  of  our  being. 
The  sinless  perfection  of  our  mortal  nature,  is  the  ob- 
ject of  commanded  pursuit  and  of  promised  attainment. 
We  can  never,  even  in  a  future  world,  go  beyond  this; 
and  in  the  present  world,  bearing  about  with  us  to  the 
end  the  corruption  of  the  old  man,  we  can  never  reach 
it.  We  can  never  exceed  the  requirements  of  the  pre- 
cepts 1  have  been  repeating.  To  be  "  righteous  over- 
much," is  an  impossibility. 

The  statement  in  the  twentieth  verse, — "  for  (there 
is)  not  a  just  man  upon  earth,  that  doeth  good,  and  sin- 
neth  not,"  is  made  without  exception  or  qualification; 
and  ought  for  ever  to  lay  in  the  dust  the  lofty  preten- 
sions of  some  professing  Christians,  as  if  they  had  at- 
tained to  a  state  of  perfect  freedom  from  inward  and 
outward  sin  ;  a  pretension  pregnant  with  the  most 
astonishing  self-ignorance,  or  the  most  presumptuous 
spiritual  pride.  There  are  ^''just  men  upon  the  earth  :" 
they  "  do  good,"  and  manifest  by  its  fruits  the  nature 
and  qualities  of  the  tree.  But  there  are  no  perfect  men 
upon  the  earth  ;  none  who  can  say,  without  the  most 
pitiable  self-deception,  "  I  have  no  sin."  There  is  many 
a  one  that  "  doeth  good  ;"  but  no  one  that  "  doeth  good 
and  sinneth  not ;" — no,  not  one.  Not  only  are  we 
guilty  of  many  sins  along  with  our  good  deeds ;  but 
in  our  good  deeds  themselves  there  is  sin.  "  There  is 
not  a  just  man  upon  earth  that  doeth  good,  and"  even 
in  the  good  that  he  doeth,  "  sinneth  not."  we  have  all 
of  us  abundant  reason  to  say,  not  only  that  "  in  many 
things  we  offend,"  but  that  in  every  thing  we  "  fail  and 
come  short ;"  and  still  to  come  to  God  with  the  prayer 
of  the  publican,  "God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner." 
Ss 


S22  LECTUllE  XIH. 

But  the  connection  of  the  verse  with  what  precedes 
is  not,  at  first  view,  very  obvious:  and  accordingly 
different  translations  have  been  proposed  of  the  connec- 
tive particle,  rendered  by  our  translators  "  For  /"  some 
joining  it  with  what  goes  before,  and  others  with  what 
follows.    There  seems  no  need  for  any  alteration.  The 
verse  connects  in  a  natural  and  edifying  manner  with 
the  sentiment  of  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  verses  : 
"  (It  is)  good  that  diou  shouldst  lay  hold  on  this;  yea, 
also  from  this  withdraw  not  thy  hand  :  for  he  that  feareta 
God  shall  come  forth  of  them  ail.  Wisdom"— this  wis- 
dom, the  fear  of  God, — "  strengtheneth  the  wise  more 
than  ten  mighty  (men)  who  are  in  the  city."    The  ad- 
monition to  cultivate  the  fear  of  God  is  then  enforced 
by  the  appropriate  consideration,  "  For  (there  is)  not  a 
just  man  upon  earth,  thatdoeth  good,  and  sinneth  not." 
You  are  a  sinful  and  imperfect  creature ;   having  the 
seeds  of  all  evil  within  you  ;  ever  liable  to  feel  the 
power  of  temptation,   and  to  fall  before  it.     Cherish, 
therefore,  the  fear  of  God,  as  the  great  preventive  of 
evil ;  the  strengthening  and  sustaining  principle  amidst 
abounding  intimidations  and  allurements ;  that  which 
alone   can  counteract  the  propensities  of  corruption. 
One  temptation  to  sin,  a  frequent  and  a  strong  one,  is 
the  fear  of  man.  But  the  predominant  fear  of  God  raises 
the  mind  above  it ;  gives  vigour  of  heart,  boldness  of 
countenance,  and  energy  of  resistance  ;  and,  maintained 
in  exercise  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  secures  the  final  victory. 
Verses  21st  and  22d  contain  some  further  necessary 
advice,  for  the  preservation  of  our  peace  and  happiness 
in  life  :— "  Also,  take  no  heed  unto  all  words  that  are 
spoken ;  lest  thou  hear  thy  servant  curse  thee.     For 
oftentimes  also  thine  own  heart  knoweth,  that  thoia 
thyself  likewise  hast  cursed  others." 


ECCLES.  VII.  15 — 22.  323 

The  precept  requires  practice  more  than  it  needs 
illustration.  Its  general  nature  is  sufficiently  plain.  It 
is  addressed  to  those  who  are  apt  to  be  jealous  of  what 
is  thought  and  what  is  said  about  them  by  others  ;  who 
are  continually  on  the  tiptoe  of  listening  suspicion.  It 
has  been  said,  and  is  almost  proverbial,  that  listeners 
seldom  hear  good  of  themselves.  It  is  quite  natural  to 
expect  that  it  should  be  so.  The  very  practice  shows 
the  man's  conscience  to  be  inwardly  whispering  to  him- 
self, that  it  is  not  good  he  is  entitled  to  hear.  The  anx- 
ious curiosity  indicates  the  existence  of  such  a  secret  sus- 
picion ;  and  he  who  indulges  it,  well  deserves  the  mor- 
tification he  receives. — If  we  regard  our  own  happiness, 
we  shall  pay  attention  to  this  admonition.  The  feeling 
must  be  one  of  exquisite  distress,  when  a  man,  expect- 
ing commendation  and  blessing,  hears  from  the  lips 
that  should  have  uttered  it,  reviling  and  malediction. 
In  such  a  case,  surely,  "  ignorance  is  bliss."  It  may 
often  happen,  that  a  person,  under  the  irritation  of  tem- 
porary passion,  may  utter  hastily  the  severe  reflection, 
and  the  imprecation  of  evil,  to  which  he  would  by  no 
means  stand  in  his  cooler  moments.  What  he  has  hastily- 
uttered  he  quickly  forgets.  But  he  who  is  the  subject 
of  it  cannot  so  readily  banish  it  from  his  mind  ;  he  can- 
not, from  his  self-partiality,  make  adequate  allowance 
for  the  momentary  passion  that  has  produced  it ;  he 
broods  over  it :  it  leaves  a  deep  and  rankling  wound ; 
and  he  thus  makes  himself  lastingly  unhappy,  by  hear- 
ing what  he  who  said  it  has  not  lodged  in  his  bosom  for 
a  single  hour. — We  should,  besides,  be  influenced  to 
receive  this  admonition  by  the  consideration  suggested 
in  the  twenty-second  verse  :  *'  For  oftentimes  also  thine 
own  heart  knoweth  that  thou  thyself  likewise  hast  cursed 
others."  You  not  only  are  aware,  my  fellow- christians, 


324  LECTURE  xiir. 

how  you  were  wont  to  feel  and  to  speak,  when  you  were 
destitute  of  the  grace  of  God  ;  but  you  are  conscious 
to  yourselves  how  you  are  apt  to  be  affected  still :  how 
ready  you  are,  in  the  moment  of  irritation,  to  kindle 
with  resentful  emotion,  and  to  utter  the  wish  of  evil ; 
nay,  how  much  you  are  in  danger  of  even  retaining  and 
cherishing  the  spirit  of  malediction.  Sensible  of  this, 
you  will  "  beware  of  giving  heed  unto  all  words  that 
are  spoken."  Your  own  consciousness  will  prevent  you 
from  thinking  it  impossible  that  you  should  hear  any 
evil  of  yourselves ;  and  it  will,  at  the  same  time,  teach 
you,  to  make  allowance  for  the  passions  and  the  hasty 
speeches  of  other  men. 

From  this  passage,  I  may,  in  the  first  place,  address 
to  my  fellow-christians,  the  words  of  the  apostle  John, 
**  Marvel  not,  my  brethren,  if  the  world  hate  you."  No 
strange  thing  happens  to  you.  It  has  been  so,  as  the 
apostle,  in  the  connection  of  the  words  quoted,  reminds 
his  brethren,  from  the  very  beginning ;  from  the  time 
when  God  said  to  the  serpent,  "  I  will  put  enmity  be- 
tween thee  and  the  woman,  and  between  thy  seed  and 
her  seed."  *'  Cain  was  of  that  wicked  one,  and  slew 
his  brother  :  and  wherefore  slew  he  him  ?  Because  his 
own  works  were  evil,  and  his  brother's  righteous." — 
The  same  principles  of  enmity  against  God,  and  his 
spiritual  children,  continued  to  operate  in  the  days  of 
Solomon  ;  who  saw  "  the  just  (man)  perishing  in  his 
righteousness,  and  the  wicked  (man)  prolonging  his 
life  in  his  wickedness  " — And  never  was  the  hostility 
of  human  nature  to  God  and  goodness  more  affectingly 
displayed,  than  at  the  fulness  of  time,  during  the  per- 
sonal ministry  of  the  Son  of  God ;  when  the  Eternal 
Word,  made  flesh,  dwelt  amongst  men,  '^full  of  grace 
and  truth."     He  was  hated  by  the  world,  because,  by 


ECCLES.  VII.  15 — 23.  325 

the  perfection  of  his  example,  and  the  faithfulness  of 
his  ministry,  he  *'  testified  of  it  that  its  deeds  were  evil." 
And  most  emphatically  might  it  be  said  of  him,  that  he 
*^  perished  in  his  righteousness."— His  apostles  after 
him  experienced  the  same  effects  from  the  same  cause, 
agreeably  to  his  own  faithful  premonition:  "  If  the  world 
hate  you,  ye  know  that  it  hated  me  before  (it  hated) 
you.  If  ye  were  of  the  world,  the  world  would  love 
his  own  :  but,  because  ye  are  not  of  the  world,  but  I 
have  chosen  you  out  of  the  world,  therefore  the  world 
hateth  you.  Remember  the  word  that  I  said  unto  you, 
The  servant  is  not  greater  than  his  Lord.  If  they  have 
persecuted  me,  they  will  also  persecute  you.  If  they 
have  kept  my  saying,  they  will  keep  yours  also."  And 
the  case  is  still  unaltered.  The  enmity  between  the  seed 
of  the  serpent  and  the  seed  of  the  woman  still  subsists. 
Various  circumstances  in  providence,  indeed,  prevent 
it  (and  for  this  we  have  cause  to  be  thankful,)  from 
operating  in  the  way  of  public  persecution  of  the  Chris-  . 
tian  name.  But  still  it  exists,  and  still  it  shows  itself, 
in  an  endless  variety  of  more  private  ways,  wherever 
the  decidedly  serious  and  spiritual  religion  of  the  gos- 
pel is  exhibited.  Unrcgenerated  human  nature  likes 
not  God  and  holiness  one  v*'hit  better  now  than  it  has 
ever  done.  The  pure  and  lov.ly  Saviour  is  still,  and 
often  even  in  the  midst  of  professed  and  nominal  attach- 
ment to  him,  '^  despised  and  rejected  of  men  :"  and  the 
tendency  of  the  cordial  acceptance,  and  the  humble  and 
spiritual  profession  of  his  doctrine,  still  is,  to  separate 
a  man  from  his  brethren ;  to  divide  households,  two 
against  three,  and  three  against  two ;  and  by  its  colli- 
sion with  the  corrupt  passions  of  the  heart  in  those  who 
continue  strangers  to  its  saving  power,  to  strike  out  the 
sparks,  and  kindle  the  fire,  of  persecution  and  strife. 


62Q  LECTURE  XIII. 

Wheresoever,  and  to  what  extent  soever,  the  spirit  of 
hostility  displays  itself,  let  the  sufferers  remember,  both 
for  their  encouragement  and  their  admonition,  the  words 
of  their  Master:  "  Blessed  (are)  they  who  are  persecuted 
for  righteousness'  sake ;  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  Blessed  (are)  ye  when  (men)  shall  revile  you, 
and  persecute  (you,)  and  shall  say  all  manner  of  evil 
against  you  falsely,  for  my  sake.  Rejoice,  and  be  ex- 
ceeding glad,  for  great  (is)  your  reward  in  heaven."  O 
remember,  my  brethren,  it  must  be  "  for  righteous- 
ness' sake"  that  you  suffer, — it  must  be  •■'  falsely"  that 
you  are  evil  spoken  of,  else  the  blessing  cannot  be 
yours.  "  But  if  ye  suffer  for  righteousness'  sake,  happy 
(are  ye  :)  and  be  not  afraid  of  their  terror,  neither  be 
troubled ;  but  sanctify  the  Lord  God  in  your  hearts  : 
and  (be)  ready  always  to  (give)  an  answer  to  every  one 
that  asketh  you  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in  you,  with 
meekness  and  fear."* 

Secondly.  Let  men  beware  of  wresting  and  abusing 
the  Scriptures,  to  their  own  delusion  and  ruin. — It  is 
a  very  sure  evidence  of  a  man's  not  being  decidedly 
righteous  at  all,  when  he  is  particularly  fond  of  the  cau- 
tion (misinterpreted,  as  in  that  case  we  are  certain  it 
must  be)  "  not  to  be  righteous  overmuch  :" — a  caution, 
which  is  often  repeated,  with  a  sneer  of  a  malicious  satis- 
faction, by  men  in  whose  eyes  ail  real,  heartfelt,  spiritual 
religion,  all  scriptural  godliness,  is  held  as  enthusiasm 
and  madness : — that  religion,  I  mean,  which  mourns 
for  sin  in  deep  self-abasement ;  which  loves  the  Saviour 
supremely  ;  which  is  addicted  to  reading  the  bible,  to 
prayer  and  communion  with  God ;  which  counts  the 
sabbath  a  delight ;  which  shrinks,  with  a  delicate  ten- 
derness of  conscience,  from   even  the  appearance  of 

*  Matt.  V.  10—12.     1  Pet.  iii.  14,  15. 


ECCLES.  VII.  15 — 22.  3g7 

evil ;  which  ceases  to  have  pleasure  in  the  empty  vani- 
ties, the  time-and-soul-killing  follies,  of  a  passing  world, 
and  weeps  in  pity  for  those  who  have  ;  which  seeks  to 
enjoy  God  in  all  things,  and  all  things  in  God. 

My  friends,  the  subject  is  serious, — deeply  serious  ; 
worthy  of  being  in  earnest  about.  Either  you  must  be- 
long to  the  people  of  God,  or  to  the  world  :  and  the 
time  is  coming  when  this  distinction  shall  be  anounced 
with  awful  solemnity,  and  shall  be  fixed,  with  its  con- 
sequences on  either  side,  in  eternal  permanence. 

With  easy  lightness  of  heart,  and  scornful  rejection 
of  serious  counsel  from  those  who  feel  the  weight  of 
religious  truth  and  the  sacredness  of  religious  duty, 
you  talk  of  "  not  being  righteous  overmuch  ;"  and  you 
thus  cloak  under  a  Bible  phrase  your  deplorable  regard- 
lessness  of  the  Bible's  most  important  discoveries  and 
most  imperative  obligations.  You  spurn  its  pure  and 
elevated  sanctities  away  from  you,  and,  with  infatuated 
thoughtlessness,  allege  its  own  authority  for  doing  so. 
But  you  do  not  read  your  Bible,  els^  you  never  would 
talk  thus.  O  my  friends  do  bethink  yourselves.  A 
sinful  creature  "righteous  overmuch!" — a  sinner  too 
good !  Can  you,  in  your  consciences,  believe,  that  the 
word  of  God  seriously  warns  you  against  the  danger 
of  this  ?  If  not,  O  beware  of  perverting  a  Divine  coun- 
sel ;— beware  of  doing  with  the  word  of  the  Eternal 
God  what  you  would  resent  as  an  insult  were  it  done 
with  your  own. 

"(There  is)  not  a  just  man  upon  earth,  that  doeth 
good  and  sinneth  not."  There  is  not  therefore  a  just 
man  upon  earth,  that  can  stand  accepted  before  God  on 
the  ground  of  his  own  righteousness.  Such  is  the  cha- 
racter of  that  Being  with  whom  we  have  to  do,  and  such 
the  requirements  of  his  perfect  law,  that  nothing  but  a 


328  LECTURE  XIII. 

sinless  righteousness  can  procure  acceptance  at  his  bar. 
Such  a  righteousness  is  not  to  be  found  in  fallen  man. 
And  the  very  first,  and  a  most  distinctive  feature,  in  the 
character  of  the  renewed,  is  the  entire  renunciation  of 
all  dependence  on  their  own  doings,  and  a  simple- 
hearted  reliance  on  the  perfect  righteousness,— the  obe- 
dience,  atonement,  and  intercession,  of  the  Son  of  God. 
All  of  them  are  ready  to  say,  v/ith  deep  prostration  of 
soul  before  God,  "  If  thou,  Lord,  shouldst  mark  iniqui- 
ties, O  Lord,  who  shall  stand?"  '*  Enter  not  into  judg- 
ment with  thy  servant  ;  fcr  in  thy  sight  shall  no  man 
living  be  justified:"  ^'Godbe  merciful  to  me  a  sinner!" 

Forget  not,  at  the  same  time,  that  personal  righteous- 
ness, "  walking  in  newness  of  life"  is  the  only  unequi- 
vocal evidence  of  interest,  by  faith,  in  the  righteousness 
of  the  Redeemer.     Therefore, 

Thirdly.  Let  Christians  implore,  with  earnestness 
and  constancy,  the  influences  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  at 
once  to  deepen  their  sense  of  sinfulness,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  maintain  in  fuUvigour  in  their  souls  the  "  fear 
of  God  ;"  that  by  this  wisdom  they  may  be  brought 
through  all  temptation,  may  "  come  forth,"  victorious, 
from  all  opposition,  and  untainted,  from  all  the  corrupt- 
ing influence  of  an  evil  world: — that  they  may  manifest 
in  increasing  holiness  the  increasing  power  of  this  sa- 
cred principle: — that  they  may  not  be  'Hed  away  by 
the  error  cf  the  wicked,  and  so  fall  from  their  own  stead- 
fastness, but  may  grow  in  grace,  and  in  the  knowledge 
of  the  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ."  Let  it  be  their 
constant  desire  and  aim,  to  be  righteous  more  and  more; 
never  thinking  that  they  have  already  attained,  or  that 
they  are  already  perfect."  Let  them  "  follow  holiness 
without  which  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord."  "  Of  this'' 
let  them  *'  take  hold;"   "from  this  let  them  not  with- 


ECCLES.  yii.  15 — 22.  339 

draw  their  hand."  "  Work  out  your  own  salvation  with 
fear  and  trembling ;  for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in  you, 
both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure."  "  Gird  up 
the  loins  of  your  minds,  be  sober,  and  hope  to  the  end 
for  the  grace  that  shall  be  brought  unto  you  at  the  reve- 
lation of  Jesus  Christ.  As  obedient  children,  not  fash- 
ioning yourselves  according  to  the  former  lusts  in  your 
ignorance ;  but,  as  he  who  hath  called  you  is  holy,  so 
be  ye  holy  in  all  manner  of  conversation  :  because  it  is 
written,  Be  ye  holy,  for  I  am  holy.  And  if  ye  call  on 
the  Father,  who,  without  respect  of  persons,  judgeth 
according  to  every  man's  work,  pass  the  time  of  your 
sojourning  (here)  in  f^ar  :  forasmuch  as  ye  know,  that 
ye  were  not  redeemed  with  corruptible  things,  (as)  sil- 
ver and  gold,  from  your  vain  conversation  (received) 
by  tradition  from  your  fathers,  but  with  the  precious 
blood  of  Christ,  as  of  a  lamb  without  blemish  and  with- 
out spot :  who  verily  was  foreordained  before  the  foun- 
dation of  the  world,  but  was  manifest  in  these  last  times 
for  you  ;  who  by  him  do  believe  in  God,  who  raised 
him  up  from  the  dead,  and  gave  him  glory,  that  your 
faith  and  hope  might  be  in  God."* 

Lastly,  Let  a  sense  of  our  own  liableness  and  prone- 
ness  to  err,  in  heart,  in  word,  and  in  conduct,  render 
us  charitable,  candid,  and  gende,  in  our  judgments  of 
others.  The  principle  of  the  admonition,  ''  Take  no 
heed  unto  all  words  that  are  spoken,  lest  thou  hear  thy 
servant  curse  thee  ;  for  oftentimes  also  thine  own  heart 
knoweth,  that  thou  thyself  likewise  hast  cursed  others," . 
may  be  thus,  with  propriety,  generalized.  We  ought 
not  to  expect  too  much  from  others,  when  we  are  con- 
scious to  ourselves  of  our  own  weakness,  and  sinful- 
ness :  and  we  should  especially  beware  of  harshness,  and 

♦  1  Pet.  i.  14—21, 

Tt 


330       LECTURE  XIII.    ECCLES.  YII.   15 — 22, 

of  severely  condemning  others  for  things  of  which  wc 
ourselves  are  guilty.  "  Thou  art  inexcusable,  O  man, 
whosoever  thou  art  that  judgest:  for  wherein  thou 
judgest  another,  thou  condemnest  thyself;  for  thou  that 
judgest  doest  the  same  things."*  "  Judge  not  that  ye 
be  not  judged.  For  with  what  judgment  ye  judge  ye 
shall  be  judged  ;  and  with  what  measure  ye  mete,  it 
shall  be  measured  to  you  again.  And  why  beholdest 
thou  the  mote  that  is  in  thy  brother's  eye,  and  consi- 
derest  not  the  beam  that  (is)  in  thine  own  eye  ?  Or  how 
wilt  thou  say  to  thy  brother,  Let  me  pull  out  the  mote 
out  of  thine  eye  ;  and  behold,  a  beam  is  in  thine  own 
eye.  Thou  hypocrite,  cast  out  first  the  beam  out  of 
thine  own  eye,  and  then  shalt  thou  see  clearly  to  pull 
out  the  mote  out  of  thy  brother's  eye."t 

*  Rom,  ii,  1.  t  Matt.  v'u.  1 — 5. 


LECTURE  XIT 


EccLES.  vii.  23 — 29. 

23  "  Jli  l/iis  have  I  firoved  by  ivlsdom  :  I  said,  I  tjUI  be  mse  ;  but  it 

24  (ii)as)  far  from  me.     That  ivhich  is  far  off ^  and  exceeding  deefi^ 

25  ivho  can  find  it  out?  I  applied  mine  heart  to  know,  and  to  nearch, 
a?id  to  seek  out  "uVisdom,  and  the  reason  C of  things,  J  and  to  know 

-6  the  ivickedncss  of  folly,  even  of  foolishness  (and)  madness:  and  I 
find  more  bitter  than  death  the  ivoman  whose  heart  (is)  snares  and 
nets,  (and J  her  hands  C^^J  bands  :  ivhoso  fileaseth  God  shall  es- 

27  cape  from  her  ;  but  the  sinner  shall  be  taken  by  her.  Behold,  this 
have  I  found,  \_saith  the  Preacher,']  C  counting  J  one  by  one,  to  find 

28  out  the  account ;  Which  yet  my  koul  seeketh,  but  I  find  not:  one 
man  among  a  thousand  have  I  found  ;  but  a  ivoman  among  all  those 

29  have  I  not  found.  Lo,  this  only  have  I  found,  that  God  hath  made 
man  upright ;  but  they  have  sought  out  ma7iy  inventions" 


1  HE  wisdom  which  God  imparted  to  Solomon  did  not 
consist  in  the  supernatural  infusion  of  knowledge,  on 
all  subjects,  into  his  mind ;  but  rather  in  an  understand- 
ing rendered  by  '^  the  Father  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh" 
unusually  acute  and  comprehensive,  capable  of  quick 
discernment,  clear  and  accurate  conception,  enlarged 
views,  and  thus  of  extensive  and  multifarious  acquisi- 
tions. And  it  was  in  the  diligent  exercise  of  his  mental 
faculties,  thus  strengthened,  elevated,  and  amplified, 
that  he  gained  that  extent  and  variety  of  knowledge 
and  wisdom,  for  which  he  was  so  highly  and  justly 
celebrated. 

The  serious  and  important  lessons  contained  in  this 
book,  are  the  result  of  the  wisdom  given  him,  when 
rightly  exercised,  under  the  influence  of  the  fear  of  the 
Lord,  and  the   superintending  direction  of  the  Holy 


^St  LECTURE  Xir. 

Spirit,  by  whom  he  was  prompted  to  record  his  expe- 
rience.— "  AU  this,"  says  he,  in  the  first  of  the  verses 
I  have  now  read,-—"  All  this  have  I  proved  by  wis- 
dom :" — I  have  tried  all  these  diversified  sources  of 
happiness,  and  have  proved  the  result  to  be  such  as  I 
have  stated : — I  have  proved  the  lessons  I  now  deliver 
to  be  founded  in  truth,  to  be  "  good  and  profitable  unto 
men."  Not  that  it  was  a  wise  course  by  which  he  col- 
lected his  experience  :  but  he  had  now,  through  Divine 
mercy,  been  led  to  apply  to  that  experience,  the  wisdom 
given  him,  and  to  teach  to  others  the  lessons  it  had 
taught  to  himself. 

Even  to  the  course,  indeed,  which  procured  him  his 
experience,  he  had  been  incited  by  the  misdirected  de- 
sire of  wisdom,  or  knowledge.  This  was  his  ruling 
passion ;  a  principle,  good  in  itself,  but  in  its  applica- 
tion susceptible  of  the  most  grievous  perversion. — "  I 
said,  I  will  be  wise."  On  this  object  he  set  his  heart, 
and  he  pursued  it,  with  unabating  ardour,  in  every  di- 
rection,— in  all  descriptions  of  experiment  and  research. 
— "  But,"  he  adds,  "it  was  far  from  me." 

1.  The  measure  of  wisdom  which  he  was  desirous 
to  attain,  in  his  different  pursuits,  was  far  from  him. 
He  still  found,  after  all  his  investigation,  that  he  "  knew 
but  in  part ;"  and  the  more  he  came  to  know,  the  more 
did  he  perceive  the  vast  extent  of  what  yet  remained 
undiscovered;  of  subjects  hid  in  darkness,  or  dimly 
seen  in  the  twilight  of  conjecture.  In  the  rich  mine  of 
science,  he  was  for  ever  striking  on  some  new  vein  y 
and  in  the  very  ardour  and  enthusiasm  of  discovery^ 
arriving  at  points,  beyond  which  no  mortal  skill  or 
power  was  able  to  penetrate.  Thus  even  Solomon,  with 
all  his  marvellous  faculties,  experienced  the  truth  of 
what  the  poet  says  of  knowledge, 

*•  'Tis  but  to  know— Iww  little  can  be  known  " 


ECCLES.  VII.  23—^29.  333 

There  are  limits  to  the  powers  of  the  mightiest  minds. 
There  are  many  things  in  the  nature  of  the  Divine  Be- 
ing, many  things  in  his  works,  and  many  things  in  his 
ways,  that  are  "  past  finding  out ;"  things,  of  which  the 
loftiest  and  most  capacions  understandings  must  be 
content  to  say,  '*  Such  knowledge  is  too  wonderful  for 
me  ;  it  is  high ;  1  cannot  attain  unto  it :" — or,  as  Solo- 
mon adds,  in  the  following  verse,  "  That  which  is  far 
off,  and  exceeding  deep,  who  can  find  it  out  ?" 

2.  If  we  consider  him  as  speaking  of  the  exercise  of 
his  understanding  during  "  the  days  of  his  vanity," 
which  is  probably  the  case,  how  affecting  is  the  repre- 
sentation of  his  pursuits  ! — "  I  said  I  will  be  wise  :" 
and  to  fulfil  his  resolution,  he  set  himself  to  the  study 
of  all  the  branches  of  human  knowledge.  But  all  the 
while,  wisdom,  true  wisdom,  *'  was  far  from  him." 
Having  departed  from  the  "  fear  of  God,"  true  wisdom 
was  nowhere  else  to  be  found :  a  search  through  the 
universe  could  not  have  discovered  it.  All  would  still 
have  been  unsatisfying,  all  folly,  without  this ;  wisdom 
and  true  happiness  alike  far  from  him. — "  Where  shall 
wisdom  be  found  ?  and  where  is  the  place  of  under- 
standing? Man  knoweih  not  the  price  thereof;  neither 
is  it  found  in  the  land  of  the  living.  The  deep  saith.  It 
(is)  not  in  me,  and  the  sea  saith,  (It  is)  not  with  me. 
It  cannot  be  gotten  for  gold,  neidier  shall  silver  be 
weighed  (for)  the  price  thereof.  It  cannot  be  valued 
with  the  gold  of  Opiiir,  with  the  precious  onyx  or  the 
sapphire.  The  gold  and  the  crystal  cannot  equal  it ;  and 
the  exchange  of  it  (shall  not  be  for)  jewels  of  fine  gold. 
No  mention  shall  be  made  of  pearls  or  of  corals ;  for 
the  price  of  wisdom  (is)  above  rubies.  The  topaz  of 
Ethiopia  shall  not  equal  it,  neither  shall  it  be  valued 
with  pure  gold.   Whence,  then,  cometh  wisdom  ?  and 


33-fc  LECTURE  XIV. 

where  (is)  the  place  of  understanding?  Destruction 
and  Death  say,  We  have  heard  the  fame  thereof  with 
our  ears.  GOD  understandeth  the  way  thereof;  and 
He  knoweth  the  place  thereof.  For  he  looketh  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth,  (and)  seeth  under  the  whole  heaven  ; 
to  make  the  weight  for  the  winds  ;  and  he  vveigheth  the 
waters  by  measure.  When  he  made  a  decree  for  the 
rain,  and  a  way  for  the  lightning  of  the  thunder ;  then 
did  he  see  it  and  declare  it ;  he  prepared  it,  yea, 
and   searched  it  out.      And  unto   man  he  said,  Be- 

HOLD,  THE  FEAR  OF  THE  LoRD,  THAT  (is)  WIS- 
DOM; AND  TO  DEPART  FROM  EVIL  (is)  UNDER- 
STANDING."*— Having  forgotten  the  concluding  de- 
claration of  this  beautiful  and  sublime  passage,  Solomon 
necessarily  missed,  in  every  other  quarter  in  which  he 
sought  it,  the  precious  object  of  his  desire. 

The  words  in  the  beginning  of  the  25th  verse  ex- 
press the  indefiitigable  ardour  with  which  his  end  was 
pursued  :— *'  I  applied  my  heart,  to  kno^v,  and  to  search, 
and  to  seek  out  vvisdom,  and  the  reason  (of  things)." 
The  various  terms  employed,  betw-een  which  it  is  quite 
unnecessary  to  attempt  fixing  the  precise  shades  of  dif- 
ference, are  evidently  accumulated,  to  convey  strongly 
to  the  mind  the  impression  of  eager,  intense,  and  un- 
wearied assiduity  of  application  ;  persevering  in  spite 
of  all  difficulties  and  discouragements. 

He  sought  to  know  "  wisdom,  and  the  reason  (of 
things)."  He  was  not  satisfied  with  the  knowledge  of 
mere  facts.  He  investigated  principles.  He  tried  to  dis- 
cover causes ;  both  in  nature  and  in  providence  ;  and 
in  the  moral  and  physical  departments  of  each.  And  in 
])is  study  of  mankind,  he  examined  the  reasons  of  their 
state,  their  conduct,  and  their  prospects :  and  explored 

*  Job  xxviii.  12—28, 


ECCLES.  VII.  23 — 39.  333 

the    various    sources  of   their    happiness    and    their 
misery. 

One  of  the  subjects  of  his  attention  and  inquiry,  was, 
"  the  wickedness  of  folly,  even  of  foolishness  (and) 
madness;"  that  is,  the  foolishness  and  madness  of  men, 
who  live  "  without  God  in  the  world,"  who  "  walk  in 
the  sight  cf  their  eyes,  and  in  the  imagination  of  their 
heart." — In  one  view,  this  was  a  very  proper  and  a 
highly  profitable  subject  of  investigation.  We  can 
hardly  be  better  employed  tlian  in  considering,  and  se- 
riously weighing,  the  "  exceeding  sinfulness"  of  sin  ; 
and  the  more  closely  we  examine  it,  in  the  various  lights 
in  which  it  ought  to  be  contemplated, — as  committed 
against  the  Sovereign  of  the  universe,  infinitely  holy 
and  infinitely  good,  and  as  tending  to  bring  dishonour 
upon  his  blessed  name,  to  unsettle  the  foundations  of 
his  eternal  throne,  and  to  spread  confusion,  misery,  and 
ruin  through  all  his  dominions ;  we  shall  find  it  to  be 
unsearchable, — "  exceeding  deep,  so  that  none  can  find 
it  out."  This  is  the  case,  as  to  the  intrinsic  evil  and 
demerit  of  sin.  Its  malignity  cannot  be  estimated  by  a 
fallen  creature,  whose  judgment  is  perverted  by  its 
sadly  prevailing  power.  Although  not,  in  the  strict  ac- 
ceptation cf  terms,  an  infinite  evil,  (for,  since  in  infini- 
tude there  are  no  degrees,  this  would  equalize  the  guilt 
of  all  transgression,)  yet,  as  committed  against  an  infi- 
nite Being,  not  even  a  holy  creature  (because  necessa- 
rily finite,  though  free  from  the  bias  of  corruption,)  can 
form  any  adequate  conception  of  the  measure  of  its 
guilt.  God  alone  thoroughly  knows  it.  He  beholds  it 
in  its  true  undisguised  nature ;  in  all  the  extent  of  its 
inherent  deformity.  He  views  it  in  the  light  of  his  own 
spotless  purity  and  incomprehensible  majesty ;  and  in 
all  its  bearings  and  tendencies,  were  it  allowed  its  un- 
restrained operation,  both  in  reference  to  his  own  glory, 


336  L.ECTURE  XIV. 

and  to  the  happiness  of  creation.  The  estimate  which 
he  has  formed  of  it,  we  learn  from  the  declarations  of 
his  word  ;  and  especially  from  the  sacrifice  required  for 
its  expiation,— from  the  deeply  mysterious  and  awful 
scenes  of  Gethsemane  and  Calvary.— And  as  the  in- 
trinsic evil  of  sin  is  beyond  our  comprehension,  so  is 
the  depth  of  human  depravity,  the  "  fulness  of  evil" 
that  is  in  the  heart  of  man.  "  The  heart  (is)  decehful 
above  all  (things,)  and  desperately  wicked;  who  can 
know  it?  I  the  Lord  search  the  hearts;  (1)  try  the 
reins ;  to  give  every  man  according  to  his  ways,  (and) 
according  to  the  fruit  of  his  doings."^— Thus  God 


hides  from  evei^  being  but  himself 


That  hideous  sight, — a  naked  human  heart." 

Good  had  it  been  for  the  king  of  Israel,  had  he  con- 
templated "  the  wickedness  of  folly,  even  of  foolishness 
and  madness,"  to  deepen  his  humility,  to  aggravate 
his  horror  of  sin,  to  soften  his  pity  for  the  wretched 
subjects  of  this  moral  mania,  and  to  render  him  more 
closely  vigilant  and  jealous  of  himself,  from  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  enormous  sum  of  hidden  evil  in  his 
own  heart !— There  are  some  things,  which  it  is  much 
better  for  us  not  to  know  at  all,  than  to  learn  by  expe- 
rience. But  Solomon,  instead  of  satisfying  himself  with 
examining  '*  the  wickedness  of  folly"  by  his  observa- 
tion of  others ;  by  their  recorded  warnings  and  dying 
regrets,  by  inward  reflection,  by  the  contemplation  of 
God,  by  meditation  on  the  testimony  of  his  word ;  must 
needs  subject  it  to  personal  experiment :  he  must  try 
*'  foolishness  and  madness"  as  a  source  of  enjoyment : 
he  must  join  the  company  of  fools,  partake  of  their  fol- 
lies, and  know  for  himself.  Infatuated  prince  !  He 
reaped  the  fruit  of  his  doings.  Good  things  abused  are 

*  Jer.  2.vli,  9,  10. 


ECCLES.  VII.  23 — 29.  337 

proverbially  the  worst.  The  wisdom  bestowed  on  So- 
lomon, rightly  employed,  was  his  own  happiness  and 
honour,  and  the  blessing  of  his  people  and  of  mankind. 
But  perverted  and  prostituted,  it  led  him  fearfully 
astray.  It  brought  him  within  the  eddies  of  a  perilous 
whirlpool,  and  exposed  him  to  the  hazard  of  eternal  de- 
struction. His  soul,  indeed,  was,  through  sovereign 
mercy,  restored.  But,  oh  !  the  bitterness  and  *'  vexation 
of  spirit"  which  his  sinful  presumption  cost  him! 

The  bitterest,  yet  the  most  dangerous  and  intoxi- 
cating ingredient  in  the  cup  of  folly, — bitter  in  the  end, 
though  sweet  in  the  enjoyment, — Solomon  mentions  in 
the  twenty-sixth  verse,  in  terms  that  indicate  how  his 
heart  recoiled  from  the  recollection. 

"And  I  find  more  bitter  than  death,  the  woman 
whose  heart  (is)  snares  and  nets,  (and)  her  hands  (as) 
bands :  whoso  pleaseth  God  shall  escape  from  her ;  but 
the  sinner  shall  be  taken  by  her." 

In  the  preceding  verse  he  speaks  of  his  having  "  ap- 
plied his  heart,  to  know  the  wickedness  of  folly."  The 
particular  sin  to  which  he  refers  in  the  26th  verse,  is 
frequently  in  the  Scriptures  termed  Jblli/f  and  those  who 
committed  it,  especially  under  certain  circumstances, 
were  said  to  have  *'  wrought  folly  in  Israel." — *'l  find 
more  bitter  than  death," — that  is,  in  the  issue,  in  the 
worse  than  deadly  tendency  of  her  tempting  blandish- 
ments,—worse  than  deadly,  because  endangering  not 
the  body  merely,  but  the  immortal  soul,  not  the  inte- 
rests of  time  merely,  but  of  eternity,  leaving  nothing 
behind  them  but  the  bitterness  of  remorse,  and  the 
"  fearful  looking  for  of  judgment." — "I  find  more  bit- 
ter than  death,  the  woman  whose  heart  (is)  snares  and 
nets,  (and)  her  hands  (as)  bands."  This  is  the  "  strange 
woman,"  whom  he  so  often  mentions  in  the  book  of 
Uu 


338  LECTURE  XIV. 

Proverbs,  depicting  her  character,  describing  her  wayS; 
and  warning  against  the  perils  of  her  company. — How 
strong  the  expression, — "  whose  heart  (is)  snares  and 
nets !"  signifying  the  muhitude  of  her  devices  of  temp- 
tation, and  the  consummate  skill,  the  secrecy,  the  ad- 
dress, the  guile,  with  which  she  uses  them,  for  the  ac- 
complishment of  her  purposes.    Her  very  "  heart  (is) 
snares  and  nets,"  in  whose  intricate  and  entangling 
meshes,  the  fascinated  and  deluded  soul  is  taken  cap- 
tive to  its  destruction.   "  (And)  her  hands  (as)  bands.'- 
Her  powers  of  detention  are  equal  to  her  powers  of  al- 
lurement.   Her  heart  is  a  net,  to  ensnare  the  unwary ; 
her  hands  are  as  bands,  to  hold  him  fast  when  her  wiles 
have  proved  successful.     So  irresistible  is  the  power, 
operating  like  the  spell  of  enchantment,  by  which  she 
retains  under  her  influence  the  hapless  victim  of  her 
charms. — Delicate  as  the  subject  is,  faithfulness  de- 
mands that  we  speak  plainly  ;  especially  for  the  warning 
of  thoughtless  youth.    There  is  no  sin  more  sadly  pre- 
valent ;  none  that  has  enticed  more  to  their  ruin  than 
this.     "  Whoredom,  and   wine,  and  new  wine,  take 
away  the  heart."    It  was  this  sin,  that  robbed  Reuben 
of  his  birthright,  and  wrung   his  father's   heart  with 
shame  and  anguish : — it  is  a  foul  blot  in  the  life  of  Ju- 
dah  :— it  unsheathed  the  sword  of  perfidy  and  vengeance 
against  the  guiltless  Shechemites : — it  spoiled  Samson 
of  his  eyes,  his  strength,  his  liberty,  his  life,  and  en- 
dangered the  freedom  of  his  country  :— it  cost  David 
many  a  pang  of  penitential  agony,  many  a  secret  groan, 
many  a  bitter  tear  :— and  it  had  well  nigh  proved  the 
ruin  of  his  son  and  successor  in  the  throne;  whose 
"  soul  escaped,  as  a  bird  out  of  the  snare  of  the  fowler," 
narrowly  escaped,  and  with  serious  damage.     A  hard 
and  narrow  escape,  indeed,  in  every  case  it  is.     It  is  a 


ECCLES.  yir.  23 — 29.  339 

sin  that  has  slain,  and,  alas  !  continues  to  sla}'-,  its  thou- 
sands and  tens  of  thousands. 

*'  Whoso  pleaseth  God  shall  escape  from  her ;  but 
the  sinner  shall  be  taken  by  her." — "  Whoso  pleaseth 
God,^^  is,  in  the  original  language,  the  same  phrase  as 
"  the  man  that  is  good  before  God,'*''  in  the  26th  verse 
of  the  second  chapter. — The  expressions  used  here 
strongly  intimate,  that,  from  the  greatness,  the  immi- 
nent greatness  of  the  danger,  final  escape  is  to  be  con- 
sidered as  a  remarkable  interposition  of  heaven,  a  signal 
instance  of  peculiar  Divine  regard.  The  man  that  is 
*'  good  before  God,"  may,  alas !  as  mournful  experi- 
ence has  too  often  shown,  fall  before  this  temptation. 
And  if,  after  falling,  and  yielding  himself  for  a  time  to 
guilty  indulgence,  he  is  recovered  to  repentance  and 
purity,  he  may  be  looked  upon  as  rescued  from  ex- 
treme peril, — as  **  a  brand  plucked  out  of  the  lire  ;" 
obtaining  a  deliverance,  which  nothing  but  the  grace 
of  God  could  effect  for  him.—*'  But  the  sinner," — the 
obstinate  sinner,  whose  character  is  thoroughly  vicious, 
who  has  no  "  good  thing  in  him  towards  the  Lord  God 
of  Israel,"  who  has  run  on  in  his  course  of  sin  and 
profligacy,  till  he  has  been  "  given  over  to  a  reprobate 
mind,"  and  is  the  guilty  victim  of  Divine  displeasure 
and  vengeance,— ^<?  "  shall  be  taken  by  her;" — yes, — 
and  he  shall  be  held  by  her  ; — and  he  shall  be  ruined  by 
her.  "  Led  captive  by  her  at  her  will,"  he  shall  find  at 
last  that  "  her  steps  take  hold  on  hell ;"  that  her  syren 
smiles  have  cursed  him  with  the  frown  of  an  angry 
God  ;  that  her  soft  and  silken  cords  have  only  drawn 
him  down 

"  To  adamantine  chains  and  penal  fire." 

'^  Hearken  unto  me  now,  therefore,  O  ye  children,  and 


340  •     LECTURE  XIV. 

attend  to  the  words  of  my  mouth.  Let  not  thy  heart 
decline  to  her  ways  ;  go  not  astray  in  her  paths.  For 
she  hath  cast  down  many  wounded ;  yea  many  strong 
(men)  have  been  slain  by  her.  Her  house  (is)  the  way 
to  hell,  going  down  to  the  chambers  of  death."* 

Solomon's  own  deliverance  was  wonderful ;  for  no 
one  could  go  further  astray,  or  give  himself  up  more 
completely  to  the  gratification  of  irregular  desires,  than 
he.  *'  King  Solomon/'  says  the  inspired  historian  of 
liis  reign,  *'  loved  many  strange  women,  (together  with 
the  daughter  of  Pharaoh,)  women  of  the  Moabites, 
Ammonites,  Edomites,  Zidonians,  (and)  Hittites;  of 
the  nations  (concerning)  which  the  Lord  said  unto  the 
children  of  Israel,  Ye  shall  not  go  in  unto  them,  neither 
shall  they  come  in  unto  you  :  (for)  surely  they  will  turn 
av/ay  your  hearts  after  their  gods.  Solomon  clave  unto 
these  in  love.  And  he  had  seven  hundred  wives,  prin- 
cesses, and  three  hundred  concubines :  and  his  wives 
turned  away  his  heart."!  And  then  follows  a  particular 
account  of  the  lengths  to  which  he  went  in  complying 
■with  the  ^^  abominable  idolatries"  of  these  unworthy 
objects  of  his  wandering  and  wanton  affections.  "  And 
the  Lord  was  angry  with  Solomon,  because  his  heart 
was  turned  av/ay  from  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  who 
had  appeared  unto  him  twice ;  and  had  commanded 
him  concerning  this  thing,  that  he  should  not  go  after 
other  gods :  but  he  kept  not  that  which  the  Lord  com- 
manded." 

To  these  melancholy  circumstances  in  the  life  of  this 
prince  there  is  an  obvious  allusion  in  the  following 
verses;  on  which  account  it  is,  that  I  have  here  intro- 
duced them  anew  : — 

*  Prov.  vii.  24 — 27.  See  the  whole  chapter,  and  also  Prov.  v.  3 — 14.  xxii,  14. 
I  1  Kings  xi.  1 — 3. 


ECCLES.  VII.  S3 — 29.  341 

Verses  27,  28.  "  Behold,  this  have  I  found,  saith 
the  Preacher,  (counting)  one  by  one  to  find  out  the  ac- 
count; which  yet  my  soul  seeketh,  but  I  find  not:  one 
man  among  a  thousand  have  I  found ;  but  a  woman 
among  all  those  have  I  not  found." 

"  Counting  one  by  one  to  find  out  the  account,"  is 
by  some  rendered,  "  weighing  one  thing  after  another 
to  find  out  the  reason."  Our  own  translation,  however, 
seems  preferable.  For  as  to  the  reason  of  what  he  states, 
we  can  hardly  imagine,  that  the  wisdom  of  the  wisest 
of  men,  after  it  was  set  free  from  fascination,  and  al- 
lowed to  judge  without  bias,  could  for  a  moment  be  at 
a  loss  to  discover,  or  hesitate  to  pronounce  upon  it. 
What  he  means  to  tell  us,  then,  is,  that  he  was  careful 
and  minute  in  the  observations  from  which  he  drew  his 
account.  He  considered  amongst  his  courtiers,  and 
amongst  his  wives  and  concubines,  to  find  out  the 
number  of  the  faithful,  the  truly  good,  the  virtuous, 
the  godly.  And  the  judgment  which  he  formed  from 
this  inspection  had  undergone  no  change,  from  recol- 
lection, at  the  time  he  was  writing :  for  this  is  probably 
the  meaning  of  the  words,  "  which  yet  my  soul  seeketh, 
but  I  find  not." — "  One  man  among  a  thousand  have 
I  found  ;  but  a  woman  among  all  those  have  I  not 
found." 

"  One  man  among  a  thousand!"  a  very  small  pro- 
portion, alas  !  and  presenting  a  sad  picture  of  the  de- 
generate state  of  Solomon's  court  at  the  period  referred 
to.  He  was  not  then  imitating  the  determination  of  his 
pious  father : — ^'  I  will  walk  within  my  house  with  a 
perfect  heart.  I  will  set  no  wicked  thing  before  mine 
eyes  :  1  hate  the  work  of  them  that  turn  aside ;  (it)  shall 
not  cleave  to  me.  A  froward  heart  shall  depart  from 
me ;  I  will  not  know  a  wicked  (person.)  Whoso  privily 


34S  LECTURE  XIV. 

slandereth  his  neighbour,  him  will  I  cut  off:  him  that 
hath  a  high  look  and  a  proud  heart  will  i  not  suffer. 
Mine  eyes  (shall  be)  on  the  faithful  of  the  land,  that 
they  may  dwell  with  me :  he  that  walketh  in  a  perfect 
way,  he  shall  serve  me.  He  that  worketh  deceit  shall 
not  dwell  within  my  house  :  he  that  telleth  lies  shall  not 
tarry  in  my  sight."* 

But  small  as  this  proportion  is,  it  is  greater  than  was 
to  be  found  amongst  the  women  of  the  royal  household : 
— "  a  woman  among  all  those  have  I  not  found."— Are 
we  to  consider  this  as  expressive  of  Solomon's  general 
opinion,  that  the  number  of  good  women  is  inferior  to 
the  number  of  good  men? — Were  we  so  to  interpret  his 
words,  they  would  convey  a  judgment  contrary,  as  I 
am  satisfied,  to  truth ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  unwar- 
ranted by  the  particular  case  on  which  it  is  founded. 
The  reason  of  Solomon's  want  of  success  in  his  search 
for  a  virtuous  woman,  it  is  not  surely  difficult  to  dis- 
cover. He  sought  for  good,  where,  from  the  nature  of 
the  thing,  nothing  but  evil  was  reasonably  to  be  ex- 
pected. Who,  that  is  in  quest  of  virtue,  and  purity, 
and  general  excellence  of  female  character,  would  seek 
it  in  the  crowded  seraglio  of  an  eastern  prince  ? 

In  multiplying  to  himself  wives  and  concubines,  So- 
lomon had  gone  far  astray  from  the  original  law  of  mar- 
riage, announced  "  in  the  beginning,"  when  God  made 
"'  a  male  and  a  female,  and  said,  For  this  cause  shall  a 
man  leave  his  father  and  his  mother,  and  shall  be  joined 
unto  his  wife,  and  they  two  shall  be  one  flesh."  He 
had  also  doubly  violated  the  express  command  of  God, 
who  had  not  only  charged  the  Israelites  in  general,  that 
they  should  not  make  marriages  with  the  surrounding 
nations,  because  they  would  thus  be  turned  away  from 

*  Psal.  ci.  3—7. 


ECCLES.  Yii.  23 — 29.  343 

following  Jehovah,  to  serve  other  gods  ;*  but  had  also, 
in  anticipating  their  future  desire  of  a  king  over  them, 
in  describing  their  character,  and  specifying  his  duties, 
most  explicitly  enjoined, — "  Neither  shall  he  multiply 
wives  to  himself,  that  his  heart  turn  not  away."t  In  the 
transgression  of  these  prohibitory  precepts,  Solomon 
had  greatly  exceeded  any  of  his  predecessors  in  the 
throne  of  Israel. 

In  such  a  situation,  when,  instead  of  concentrating  his 
affections  on  one  wife,  as  the  partner  of  his  joys  and 
sorrows,  and  seeking  domestic  happiness  in  her  faithful 
and  undivided  love,  he  gathered  around  him,  for  mag- 
nificence and  for  lawless  indulgence,  so  large  a  multi- 
tude, with  all  their  varieties  of  corporeal  and  mental 
qualities,  and  necessarily  placed  himself  in  the  very 
midst  of  heardess  blandishments,  of  envies  and  jealou- 
sies, of  contending  interests  and  selfish  quarrels,  how 
could  he  ever  hope  for  happiness  ? — and  in  such  a  situ- 
ation, when  he  had  surrounded  iiimself  with  idolatrous 
heathens,  or  with  such  Hebrew  women  as  chose  to  be 
their  voluntary  associates  in  ministering  to  his  volup- 
tuousness, how  could  he  ever  look  for  virtue .?— A  vir- 
tuous woman  would  not  connect  herself  with  such  a 
group;  or  if,  by  the  prospect  of  magnificence  and 
plenty,  any  one,  whose  principles  were  in  the  main 
good,  had  been  tempted  to  join  herself  to  his  court,  her 
character  was  not  likely,  in  such  company,  to  remain 
long  free  from  the  general  corruption.— Of  all  possible 
ways,  he  certainly  adopted  the  least  promising,  for  find- 
ing a  virtuous  woman.  He  had  himself,  and  no  other, 
to  blame.  If,  indeed,  he  had  satirized  the  sex,  because 
amongst  such  a  thousand  he  had  not  discovered  one 
woman  of  sound  principle,  he  satirized  it  on  most  un- 
just, unwise,  and  unmanly  grounds. 

♦  Deut.  vii.  2—4.  t  Deut.  xvii.  17. 


341  LECTURE  xrV. 

But  I  am  far  from  thinking  that  he  here  speaks  the 
language  of  a  disappointed  and  waspish  satirist.  He 
rather  utters  the  feelings  of  an  abased  and  self-dissa- 
tisfied penitent ;  of  one  who  had  felt  it  to  be  *'  an  evil 
thing  and  a  bitter,"  to  depart,  as  he  had  done,  from 
God;  who  "  remembered  the  wormwood  and  the  gall;" 
who  perceived  and  lamented  the  folly  and  the  wicked- 
ness of  all  those  "  inventions,"  by  which  himself  and 
others  had  sought  to  find  happiness  apart  from  the 
favour  and  the  ways  of  God.  He  justifies  God.  and 
condemns  himself: — 

Verse  29.  '*  Lo  !  this  only  have  I  found,  that  God 
made  man  upright ;  but  they  have  sought  out  many 
inventions." — Here  is  **  the  conclusion  of  the  whole 
matter :"  "  Of  the  things  which  he  had  spoken  this  is 
the  sum." 

"God  made  man  upright."— When  the  progenitors 
of  our  race  came  from  the  forming  hand  of  their  Crea- 
tor, they  were  the  subjects  of  perfect  intellectual  and 
moral  rectitude.  There  was  no  distortion  in  the  under- 
standing, no  obliquity  in  the  will,  no  corruption  in  the 
affections.  There  was  perfect  truth  in  the  mind,  per- 
fect purity  in  the  heart,  and  perfect  practical  holiness 
in  the  life.  They  were  made  "  in  the  image,  and  after 
the  likeness"  of  God  himself;  which,  according  to  the 
apostle,  consisted  especially  in  "  righteousness  and  true 
holiness,"  connected  with,  and  arising  out  of,  "know- 
ledge."— Otherwise  than  thus,  man  could  not  be  made 
by  a  pure,  and  holy,  and  benevolent  Being.  To  sup- 
pose the  contrary,  is  to  make  God,  in  the  strictest  sense, 
in  a  sense  of  which  it  is  impious  to  admit  the  imagina- 
tion, the  Author  of  sin.  The  subject,  indeed,  is  en- 
veloped in  difficulties,  of  which  that  man  has  not  pro- 
perly  thought  who  does  not  feel  their  magnitude.   Into 


ECCLES.  VII.  23 — 29.  345 

the  discussion  of  these,  it  were  unreasonable  to  enter.- 
I  can  only  remark  in  general,  that  the  matter  of  fact, 
of  the  actual  existence  of  moral  evil,  is  too  notorious 
to  admit  of  a  moment's  question  : — that  the  Bible  ac- 
count of  its  origin  did  not  cause  it ;  it  existed  indepen- 
dently of  the  revelation  which  informs  us  how  it  be- 
gan ;  and  the  rejection  of  that  revelation  neither  removes 
nor  mitigates  it,  nor  disencumbers  it,  in  the  slightest 
degree,  of  its  embarrassing  difficulties ;— that,  on  the 
contrary,  revelation  alone,  whilst  it  assumes  and  proceeds 
upon  the  mournful  fact,  provides  a  remedy  ;  all  other 
systems,  finding  human  nature  in  ruins,  leave  it  as  they 
find  it ;  Revelation  rears  out  of  the  ruins  a  magnificent 
and  holy  Temple  to  the  God  of  purity  and  love. — That 
evil  exists,  then,  is  an  indisputable  fact : — that  God 
could  not  be  its  Author,  is  a  proposition,  which,  to  all 
who  entertain  right  notions  of  his  character,  will  be 
equally  indisputable  : — "  God  made  man  upright."  Of 
all  that  followed,  although  happening  ^^  according  to  his 
determinate  counsel  and  foreknowledge,"  the  guilt  and 
responsibility  must  necessarily  lie  with  man  himself. 
This  is  the  statement  here ;  and  it  is  a  statement  to  the 
truth  of  which  we  must  assent,  in  despite  of  any  puz- 
zling questions  to  which  the  subject  has  given  rise : — . 
"  God  made  man  upright :  but  they"—  that  is,  men— - 
*'  have  sought  out  many  inventions." 

The  uprightness  in  which  man  was  created  was  the 
great  source  of  his  original  happiness.  He  was  perfectly 
happy,  because  he  was  perfectly  free  from  that  which 
is  the  cause  of  all  misery,— of  all  external  and  internal 
suffering.  Resembling  his  Creator  in  holiness,  he  re- 
sembled him  in  felicity.— But,  alas !  through  the  influ- 
ence of  temptation,  man  became  dissatisfied  with  the 
situation  in  which  his  all-bountiful  Lord  had  placed  him, 
Xx 


846  LECTURE  XIV. 

and  with  the  measure  of  knowledge  and  enjoyment 
(abundant  as  it  was)  with  which  he  had  graciouslj 
blessed  him :— and  the  origin  and  the  pattern  of  all  the 
subsequent  *'  inventions,"  by  which  men  have  endea- 
voured to  find  happiness,  was,  an  attempt  to  obtain  an 
augmentation  of  it  from  what  Jehovah  had  interdicted. 
*'  The  serpent  said  unto  the  woman,  Yea,  hath  God 
said,  Ye  shall  not  eat  of  every  tree  of  the  garden  ?  And 
the  woman  said  unto  the  serpent,  We  may  eat  of  the 
fruit  of  the  trees  of  the  garden  :  but  of  the  fruit  of  the 
tree  which  (is)  in  the  midst  of  the  garden,  God  hath 
said,  Ye  shall  not  eat  of  it,  neither  shall  ye  touch  it,  lest 
ye  die.  And  the  serpent  said  unto  the  woman.  Ye  shall 
not  surely  die  :  for  God  doth  know,  that,  in  the  day  ye 
cat  thereof,  then  your  eyes  shall  be  opened,  and  ye  shall 
be  as  God,  knowing  good  and  evil.  And  when  the 
woman  saw  that  the  tree  (was)  good  for  food,  and  that 
it  (was)  pleasant  to  the  eyes,  and  a  tree  to  be  desired  to 
make  (one)  wise,  she  took  of  the  fruit  thereof,  and  did 
eat,  and  gave  also  to  her  husband  with  her,  and  he  did 
eat."* — Such  was  the  first  of  human  "inventions"  for 
the  attainment  of  a  fancied  happiness.  We  know  too 
well  the  result.  It  "  brought  death  into  the  world,  and 
all  our  wo."  The  flattering  promise  of  the  tempter,  who 
*'  is  a  liar,  and  the  father  of  lies,"  proved  a  cursed  and 
cursing  delusion;  aggravating  his  own  condemnation, 
and  gratifying  his  malignity  in  damning  others.— Many 
have  been  the  inventions  since.  But  they  have  all  par- 
taken of  the  falsehood  and  deceitfulness,  the  folly  and 
impiety,  of  the  first.  They  have  been  "  of  the  earth, 
earthly," — "  from  beneath,  and  not  from  above."  Tl^y 
have  left  GOD  out  of  the  account ;  and  how  could  they 
prove  otherwise  than  illusory  ? — wretched  proofs  of  the 

*  Gen.  iii.  1—6. 


ECCLES.  VII.  23 — 29.  347 

senselessness  and  depravity  of  the  inventors  ?— "  wells 
without  water,"  from  which  all  who  travel  to  them 
'-'  return  with  their  vessels  empty ;  ashamed  and  con- 
founded, and  covering  their  heads." 

Solomon  includes  himself,  and  himself  chiefly,  in  the 
sentence  of  condemnation.  He  had  tried  many  of  these 
inventions.  He  had  followed  the  crooked  ways  of  hu- 
man folly  and  corruption,  in  his  search  after  the  supreme 
good,  during  •'  the  days  of  his  vanity  :"  and  having 
felt  in  himself,  and  having  witnessed  in  others,  the  depth 
of  innate  depravity,  he  "justifies  the  ways  of  God  to 
men,"  and  traces  all  the  unhappiness  of  this  apostate 
world  to  its  true  source. — He  hud  "  fallen  by  his  ini- 
quity;"  and  when  he  "  returned  unto  the  Lord  his  God," 
it  would  no  doubt  be  in  the  spirit  of  that  language  which 
was  afterwards  dictated  by  the  prophet  to  the  backslid- 
ing and  revolting  Israelites  : — "  Take  away  all  iniquity, 
and  receive  us  graciously  ;  so  will  we  render  the  calves 
of  our  lips  :"  and  the  Lord  "  healed  his  backsliding, 
and  loved  him  freely,  and  turned  away  his  anger  from 
him."— We  may  suppose  him  adopting  the  expressions 
of  his  father's  penitence,  and,  in  these  appropriate  terms, 
breathing  out  the  feelings  of  a  broken  and  contrite  heart: 
— "  Have  mercy  upon  me,  O  God,  according  to  thy 
loving-kindness  ;  according  unto  the  multitude  of  thy 
tender  mercies  blot  out  my  transgressions.  Wash  me 
thoroughly  from  mine  iniquity,  and  cleanse  me  from 
my  sin.  For  I  acknowledge  my  transgressions  ;  and  my 
sin  (is)  ever  before  me.  Against  thee,  thee  only,  have 
I  sinned,  and  done  (this)  evil  in  thy  sight ;  that  thou 
mighest  be  justified  when  thou  speakest,  (and)  be  clear 
when  thou  judgest.  Behold,  1  was  shapen  in  iniquity; 
and  in  sin  did  my  mother  conceive  me.  Behold,  thou 
desirest  truth  in  the  inward  parts  5  and  in  the  hiddei? 


348  LECTURE  XIV. 

(part)  thou  shalt  make  me  to  know  wisdom.  Purge  me 
with  hissop,  and  1  shall  be  clean  ;  wash  me,  and  I  shall 
be  whiter  than  snow.  Make  me  to  hear  joy  and  glad- 
ness ;  (that)  the  bones  (which)  thou  hast  broken  may- 
rejoice.  Hide  thy  face  from  my  sins,  and  blot  out  all 
mine  iniquities.  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God  ; 
and  renew  a  right  spirit  within  me.  Cast  me  not  away 
from  thy  presence  ;  and  take  not  thy  Holy  Spirit  from 
me.  Restore  unto  me  the  joy  of  thy  salvation  ;  and  up- 
hold me  (with  thy)  free  Spirit ;  (then)  will  I  teach  trans- 
gressors thy  ways  ;  and  sinners  shall  be  converted  unto 
thee."* 

Solomon  fulfilled  the  resolution  expressed  in  the  last 
of  these  verses,  when,  after  his  recovery,  he  committed 
his  experience  to  writing,  penning  this  book,  under  the 
direction  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  for  the  warning  and  in- 
struction of  mankind. 

From  this  passage,  observe. 

In  the  first  place.  We  ought  not  to  be  greatly  sur- 
prised, or  to  be  easily  shaken  in  mind,  although  we  dis- 
cover many  things  in  the  works  and  ways  of  God,  that 
are  above  our  comprehension. 

Is  it  at  all  marvellous  that  it  should  be  so  ?  The 
works  and  ways  of  God  are  the  works  and  ways  of  an 
infinite  Being.  Would  it  not  be  astonishing,  then,  were 
it  otherwise  ? — There  is  hardly  any  thing  in  nature  that 
is  fully  understood  by  us.  We  know  a  good  deal  of 
effects  ;  but  of  causes  wonderfully  little.  We  frequently, 
indeed,  impose  upon  ourselves,  by  using  language  that 
appears  to  indicate  our  acquaintance  with  causes ; 
whereas,  when  the  meaning  is  fairly  analized,  it  is 
found  to  be  no  more  than  another  way  of  expressing 
the  effects.     We  say,  for  example,  that  a  stone  falls  to 

*  rsal.  li.  1—13. 


ECCLES.  VII.  23 — S9.  349 

the  earth  by  gravitation  ;  and  that,  by  the  same  cause^ 
the  earth  and  other  planets  are  attracted  towards  the  sun, 
and  kept  in  their  respective  orbits.  But  when  we  ask 
the  question,  What  is  gravitation  ?  we  are  at  a  loss  for 
a  reply.  A  series  of  questions  might  follow,  which 
would  only  bring  us  back  to  where  we  set  out.  The 
principle  orpower  itself  to  which  we  have  given  a  name, 
remains,  as  much  as  before,  unknown  to  us.  From  the 
effect  we  infer  that  the  power  exists;  but  what  the  power 
is,  we  cannot  tell ;  and  it  is  only  the  effect  that  we  can 
properly  be  said  to  know  :  respecting  its  secret  nature 
we  are  profoundly  in  the  dark. — So  are  we  with  regard 
to  the  nature  of  substance  ;  our  knowledge  of  bodies 
being  confined  to  their  sensible  qualities. — The  beau- 
tiful process  of  vegetation  ; — the  principle  of  animal 
and  vegetable  life  ; — the  connection  of  matter  and  spirit 
in  our  own  frame,  and  the  manner  in  which,  by  ner- 
vous influence,  mind  imparts  activity  to  matter,  and 
matter  conveys  sensations  and  perceptions  to  mind  ; 
and  ten  thousand  other  things,  with  which  we  are  so 
familiar  as  hardly  to  think  of  them,  are,  when  examined, 
inexplicable  mysteries. — Arc  we,  then,  entitled  to  ex- 
pect that  every  thing  should  be  simple  and  easy  of  ex- 
planation in  the  nature,  and  in  the  moral  dispensations, 
of  Deity  ?  The  expectation  would  surely  be  unreasona- 
ble in  the  extreme.  Well  may  we  say,  "  That  which 
is  far  off,  and  exceeding  deep,  who  can  find  it  out  ?" 
^^  Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  God?  canst  thou 
find  out  the  Almighty  unto  perfection?  (It  is)  high  as 
heaven ;  what  canst  thou  do  ?  deeper  than  hell ;  what 
canst  thou  know  ?  The  measure  thereof  (is)  longer  than 
the  earth,  and  broader  than  the  sea."*— O  be  humble! 
Forget  not  that  God  alone  is  omniscient.     Solomon 

♦  Job  xi.  7—9. 


350  LECTURE  XIV. 

found  many  things  unfathomable.  In  all  likelihood,  the 
highest  archangel  in  heaven  finds  many  things  unfa- 
thomable. Beware,  then,  of  the  pride  of  reason.  Be- 
ware of  that  sceptical  and  unsound  philosophy  ("science, 
falsely  so  called,")  which,  in  the  plenitude  of  its  incon- 
sistent arrogance,  is  dissatisfied  with  every  thing  which 
it  cannot  fully  comprehend ;  which  pretends  to  rt  ject  the 
Bible  for  its  mysteries,  whilst  it  cannot  lift  an  eye  amidst 
the  works  of  creation,  without  beholding  itself  sur- 
rounded by  mysteries  innumerable ;  which,  renounc- 
ing the  guidance  of  Divine  revelation,  itself  only 

" leads  to  bewilder,  and  dazzles  to  blind." 

Let  us  rejoice,  my  brethren,  that  true  wisdom,  that 
which  *'  makes  wise  unto  salvation,"  is  revealed  in  the 
Divine  word,  in  letters  of  light.  Respecting  it,  no  man 
needs  to  say,  "  I  will  be  wise,"  and  still  find  wisdom 
'^  far  from  him." — "  This  commandment  which  I  com- 
mand thee  this  day,"  said  Moses  to  the  Israelites,  "  it 
(is)  not  hidden  from  thee,  neither  (is)  it  far  off.  It  (is) 
not  in  heaven,  that  thou  shouldst  say,  Who  shall  go  up 
for  us  to  heaven,  and  bring  it  unto  us,  that  we  may  hear 
it,  and  do  it  ?  Neither  (is)  it  beyond  the  sea,  that  thou 
shouldst  say,  Who  shall  go  over  the  sea  for  us,  and  bring 
it  to  us,  that  we  may  hear  it  and  do  it  ?  But  the  word 
(is)  very  nigh  unto  thee,  even  in  thy  mouth  and  in  thy 
heart,  that  thou  mayest  do  it."*  And  what  Moses  said 
of  the  law,  Paul  affirms  of  the  gospel :  "  The  righteous- 
ness, which  is  of  faith  speaketh  on  this  wise,  Say  not 
in  thy  heart,  Who  shall  ascend  into  heaven  ?  that  is,  to 
bring  Christ  down  (from  above  :) — or.  Who  shall  de- 
scend into  the  deep  ?  that  is,  to  bring  up  Christ  again 
from  the  dead.  But  what  saith  it  ?  The  word  is  very 
nigh  thee,  (even)  in  diy  mouth  and  in  thy  heart;  that 

*  Deut.  sxx.  11—14. 


ECCLES.  VII.  S3— 29.  351 

is,  the  word  of  faith  which  we  preach  ;  that  if  thou  shalt 
confess  with  thy  mouth  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  shalt  be- 
lieve in  thy  heart  that  God  hath  raised  him  from  the 
dead,  thou  shalt  be  saved.  For  with  the  heart  man  be- 
lieveth  unto  justification  ;  and  with  the  mouth  confes- 
sion is  made  unto  salvation.  For  the  Scripture  saitb, 
Whosoever  believeth  on  him  shall  not  be  ashamed  For 
there  is  no  difference  between  the  Jew  and  the  Greek  ; 
for  the  same  Lord  over  all  is  rich  unto  all  that  call  upon 
him  :  for  whosoever  shall  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord 
shall  be  saved."* 

Secondly-  Let  all  be  admonished,  and  especially  the 
young,  to  beware  of  "  the  pleasures  of  sin"  which  are 
but  "  for  a  season." 

You  would  smile  at  me  in  scorn,  should  I  set  about 
attempting  to  convince  you  that  there  are  no  pleasures 
in  sin.  Alas !  the  whole  corruption  of  our  nature  teaches 
us,  with  an  eloquence  too  powerfully  persuasive,  an  op- 
posite lesson.  If  there  were  no  pleasures  in  sin,  there 
would  be  no  temptations  in  sin,  nor  any  need  for  the 
warnings  and  threatenings  by  which  we  are  so  strongly 
and  so  frequently  deterred  from  it  in  the  word  of  God. 
There  are  pleasures  in  sin.  But,  oh !  remember,  there 
are  many  poisons  that  arc  sweet ;  sweet  to  the  palate, 
but  quickly  convulsing  the  frame  with  the  agonies  of 
death.  Think  of  the  nature  and  think  of  the  end  of  all 
sinful  pleasures.  Think  of  their  nature.  Will  you  ven- 
ture to  seek  your  happiness  in  opposition  to  your  Ma- 
ker,— in  that  which  he  has  condemned,  and  which  his 
soul  hateth  ?  If  you  do,  then  think  of  the  certain  end 
of  such  pleasures.  They  are  at  best  but  a  palatable  poi- 
son. There  is  death  in  them, — eternal  death.  At  the 
last,  they  *'  bite  like  a  serpent,  and  sting  like  an  adder." 

♦  Rom.  s.  6—13, 


35S  LECTURE  XIV. 

— Your  own  inward  corruption,  Satan  the  prince  of 
this  world,  wicked  men,  and  wicked  women  too,  may- 
tempt  you  to  sin.  But  O  forget  not,  that  every  temp- 
tation to  sin  is  a  temptation  to  ruin ;  to  the  perdition 
of  soul  and  body  in  hell.— Let  the  experience  of  Solo- 
mon warn  you, — let  the  experience  of  thousands  besides 
warn  you,  not  to  tamper  with  temptation.  Once  give 
way,— and  you  cannot,  nor  can  any  man,  tell  how  far 
you  may  go.  The  first  step  is  a  step  of  tremendous 
peril.  Tremble  to  take  it.  It  is  a  step  to  hell.  "  Flee 
from  the  wrath  to  come."  *'  Touch  not  the  unclean 
thing."  "  Enter  not  into  the  path  of  the  wicked,  and 
go  not  in  the  way  of  evil  men  :  avoid  it ;  pass  not  by 
it;  turn  from  it  and  pass  away." 

Ye  whom  God  has  graciously  rescued  from  the  broad 
way  that  leadeth  to  destruction,  and  turned  into  the 
narrow  way  of  life  and  salvation,  be  thankful  for  the 
grace  that  has  "  made  you  to  differ."  And  whilst  with 
gratitude  you  say,  "  Not  unto  us,  O  Lord,  not  unto 
us,  but  to  thy  name  give  praise  ;"  say  also,  in  the  spirit 
of  humble  dependence,  "  Hold  up  my  goings  in  thy 
paths,  that  my  footsteps  slip  not."  "  Lead  me  not  into 
temptation."  "  Lead  me  in  thy  truth,  and  teach  me  ; 
for  thou  (art)  the  God  of  my  salvation :  on  thee  do  I 
wait  all  the  day." 

Thirdly.  The  proneness  of  all  mankind  to  seek  hap- 
piness in  other  things,  than  in  the  favour  and  service  and 
image  of  God,  clearly  shows  them  to  be  a  fallen  race. 

Many  have  been  the  disputes  of  men  about  the  chief 
good.  There  was  no  such  dispute  in  paradise  :  there  is 
no  such  dispute  in  heaven.  Man's  original  happiness 
was  in  God  :— the  happiness  of  angels  is  in  God : — there 
is  no  happiness  in  the  universe,  but  in  God : — in  the 
favour,  in  the  likeness,  in  the  service,  and  enjoyment  of 


ECCLES.  VII.  23 — 29.  353 

God.  All  the  "  inventions"  of  men  for  the  attainmeat 
of  happiness,  and  "  many"  they  have  been,  long  expe- 
rience have  proved  to  be  folly.  The  gospel  of  Christ 
proposes  the  only  means  of  effectually  gaining  it :  be- 
cause its  end  is  to  bring  men  back  to  the  source  from 
which  it  originally  sprung ; — to  restore  them  to  the 
Divine  favour,  and  to  the  Divine  image.  Whatever  ac- 
complishes this,  will  make  men  happy;  and  nothing 
short  of  this  possibly  can.— O  what  reason  for  humility, 
in  contemplating  the  vain  endeavours  of  men  to  efiect 
an  absolute  impossibility  ;— to  find  happiness  without 
God !  And  what  reason  for  thanksgiving  and  praise  for 
an  open  way,  in  which  we  may  return  with  acceptance 
to  our  offended  Sovereign,  and  enjoy  the  light  of  his 
countenance.  "  I  am  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life  : 
no  man  cometh  to  the  Father  but  by  me."  Keep  in  this 
way,  my  Christian  brethren.  It  is  the  way  of  peace,  of 
holiness,  of  life.— And  hear,  ye  careless  ones,  the  warn- 
ing voice  of  the  Son  of  God,  *'  the  faithful  witness."  It 
is  the  voice  of  love  and  mercy:—"  Strive  to  enter  in  at 
the  strait  gate ;  for  many,  I  say  unto  you,  will  seek  to 
enter  in,  and  shall  not  be  able, — when  once  the  Master 
of  the  house  is  risen  up,  and  hath  shut  to  the  door ; 
and  ye  begin  to  stand  without,  and  to  knock  at  the 
door,  saying,  Lord,  Lord,  open  to  us :  then  will  I  pro- 
fess unto  you,  I  never  knew  you;  depart  from  me,  all 
(ye)  workers  of  iniquity."*  "  He  that  is  wise  shall  be 
wise  for  himself;  but  if  thou  scornest,  thou  alone  shalt 
!}ear  it." 

*  Luke  xiii.  24—27, 


Yy 


LECTURE  XV. 


EccLEs.  viii.  1 — 8. 

i  "  IV/io  (is J  as  the  wise  (man? )  and  who  knoweth  the  interfireta- 
tion  of  a  thing?  a  viari's  wisdom  maketh  kin  face  to  shine,  and  the 

2  boldness  of  his  face  shall  be  changed.    I  (counsel  thee  J  to  keep,  the 

3  king's  commandment,  and  (that  J  in  regard  of  the  oath  of  God.  Be 
not  hasty  to  go  out  of  his  sight:  stand  not  in  an  evil  thing  ;  for  he 

4  docth  whatsoever  fileaseth  him.   Where  the  word  of  a  king  (is,  there 

5  is  J  /lower;  and  who  may  say  unto  him,  What  doest  thou  ?  Whoso 
keefieth  the  commandinent  shall  feel  no  evil  thing  :  and  a  wise  man's 

6  heart  discerneth  both  time  and  judgment.  Because  to  every  fiurfio&e 
there  is  tiine  and  judgment ;  therefore  the  jnisery  of  ma?i  fisj  great 

7  upon  him.  For  he  knoweth  not  that  which  shall  be  :for  who  can  tell 

8  him  when  it  shall  be?  (  There  is  J  no  man  that  hath  power  over  the 
spirit,  to  retain  the  spirit ;  neither  (hath  he)  power  in  the  day  of 
death:  and  (there  is)  no  discharge  in  C  that  J  war ;  neither  shall 
wickedness  deliver  those  that  are  given  to  it." 


Solomon  commences  this  chapter  with  a  repetition  of 
the  praises  of  wisdom,  which  he  had  before  affirmed  to 
excel  folly  as  far  as  light  excelleth  darkness. — "  Who 
(is)  as  the  wise  (man)  ?"  A  sound  understanding,  a 
cultivated  mind,  and  discriminating  prudence,  all  under 
the  governing  influence  of  "  the  fear  of  the  Lord  ;"— 
these  constitute  true  wisdom.  And  when  viewed  in 
this  light,  surely  none  will  hesitate  to  admit,  that  *'  wis- 
dom is  the  principal  thing."  Riches,  nobility,  power, 
confer  no  eminence  comparable  to  that  which  arises 
from  superior  intelligence,  in  union  with  superior  piety. 
"  Who  (is)  as  the  wise  (man)  ?"— who  can  be  com- 
pared to  him,  in  real  intrinsic  excellence,  or  in  the 
benefits  which  accrue  to  him  from  his  wisdom  ? 


ECCLES.  VIII.   1 — 8.  355 

"  And  who  knoweth  the  interpretation  of  a  thing?" 
— that  is,  who,  as  the  wise  man,— or  who  but  the  wise 
man,  knoweth  it  ?  "  The  interpretation  of  a  thing,"  I 
should  understand  as  comprehending  in  general  the  so- 
lution  of  difficulties,  whether  in  nature,  in  providence, 
or  in  the  affairs  of  men.  This  is  the  province  of  the 
wise  man.  He  has  observed  the  appearances,  and  in- 
vestigated the  secrets,  of  nature  :--he  has  carefully 
marked  the  procedure  of  providence,  ascertaining  its 
principles  and  noting  its  mysteries : — he  has  studied 
human  nature  in  all  its  varieties  of  character,  human 
life  in  all  its  diversities  of  condition,  and  society  in  all 
its  multiplicity  of  interests  and  connections.  He  under- 
stands these  things  himself,  and  he  is  consulted  respect- 
ing them  by  others. 

"  A  man's  wisdom  maketh  his  face  to  shine."  The 
beauty  of  the  "  human  face  divine"  lies  in  its  expres- 
sion. The  light  of  wisdom  within,  beams  in  the  coun- 
tenance, imparting  to  it  the  attractive  aspect  of  intelli- 
gence and  sensibility.  It  is  a  mild  and  lovel)  light.  It 
does  not  dazzle  and  overpower  by  the  studied  bril- 
liance of  self-display,  but  with  soft  and  gentle  radiance 
inspires  delight,  and  wins  aftection;  for  of  genuine  wis- 
dom, self-diffident  humility  is  the  invariable  associate. 
"  If  any  man  think  that  he  knoweth  any  thing,  he 
knoweth  nothing  yet  as  he  ought  to  know."  Such  wis- 
dom gives  to  the  countenance  the  expression  both  of 
dignity  and  of  grace.  It  commands  reverence,  and  it 
insures  love.  It  conducts  at  once  to  honour  and  to 
friendship,  to  respectful  deference,  and  familiar  iijr 
timacy. 

The  humility  and  gentleness  which  accompany  and 
characterize  true  wisdom,  are  by  many  understood  to 
be  meant  in  the  last  clause  of  the  verse  :  "  and  the  bold- 


356  liECTURE  XV. 

ness  of  his  face  shall  be  changed."  It  shall  be 
"  changed,"  say  diey,  to  meekness  and  self-diffidence, 
the  opposite  of  that  forward  and  brazen  impudence 
which  so  frequently  distinguishes  ignorance  and  folly. 

Others  interpret  '^boldness"  in  a  good  sense,  as  sig- 
nifying firmness  and  decision,  fortitude  and  resolution 
of  character,  which  render  a  man  undaunted  and  effec- 
tive in  supporting  the  cause  of  truth  and  rectitude,  and 
resisting  the  encroachments  of  vice  and  folly  ;  in  facing 
opposition,  and  disregarding  obloquy.  Amongst  such 
a  people,  for  example,  as  those  whom  Ezekiel  had  to 
encounter,  wisdom  would  set  the  face  as  a  flint,  and 
enable  its  possessor  to  confront  them  with  a  self-pos- 
session and  commanding  confidence,  fitted  to  intimi- 
date and  repress  their  hardened  effrontery.  "  The  house 
of  Israel  will  not  hearken  unto  thee  :  for  they  will  not 
hearken  unto  me:  for  all  the  house  of  Israel  (are)  im- 
pudent and  hard-hearted.  Behold,  I  have  made  thy  face 
strong  against  their  faces,  and  thy  forehead  strong  against 
their  foreheads.  As  an  adamant,  harder  than  flint,  have 
I  made  thy  forehead  :  fear  them  not,  neither  be  dis- 
mayed at  their  looks,  though  they  (be)  a  rebellious 
house."* 

It  will  at  once  occur  to  you,  that  if  this  sense  of  the 
word  "boldness"  be  adopted,  some  corresponding 
alteration  becomes  necessary  on  the  word  "  changed." 
By  the  interpreters  in  question,  the  clause  is  accordingly 
rendered,  *'  and  the  boldness  of  his  countenance  shaH 
be  doubled^  But  this  is  a  far-fetched  and  unusual  sense 
ttf  the  original  word  ;  if  indeed  it  will  bear  it  at  all. 

The  direct  and  proper  meaning  of  the  Hebrew  word 
is  to  hate ;  and  the  Septuagint  translation  is  probably 
the  just  one, — "  but  he  who  is  impudent  of  face  shall 

*  Ezek.  iu,7— 9. 


EccLEs.  vni.  1 — 8.  857 

be  hated."*  .Instead  of  procuring,  as  wisdom  does, 
respect  and  affection,  the  forward  impudence  and  shame- 
lessness  of  the  fool  will  expose  him  to  dislike  and  aver- 
sion. Men  look  with  pleasure  on  the  countenance  that 
is  lighted  up  with  mild  intelligence,  but  turn  away  with 
disgust  from  the  unblushing  stare  of  petulance  and  self- 
sufficiency. 

To  the  advice  addressed  to  us  in  the  following 
verses,  it  will  be  our  interest,  as  it  is  our  duty,  care- 
fully to  attend.  It  is  a  part  of  that  *'  meekness  of  wis- 
dom," which  "  makes  the  face  to  shine,"  and  is  op- 
posed to  the  effrontery  that  is  the  object  of  such  uni- 
versal dislike,  and  often  the  occasion  to  a  man  of  so 
much  injury  : — *'  I  (counsel  thee)  to  keep  the  king's 
commandment,  and  (that)  in  regard  of  the  oath  of  God. 
Be  not  hasty  to  go  out  of  his  sight :  stand  not  in  an 
evil  thing;  for  he  doeth  whatsoever  pleaseth  him." 

The  former  of  these  two  verses  is  by  some  rendered 
— *'  Keep  the  commandment  of  the  king  ;  but  accord- 
ing to  the  word  of  the  oath  of  God  :" — which  makes 
the  last  clause  restrictive  of  the  first ;  limiting  and 
qualifying  the  injunction  to  loyal  obedience: — as  if 
Solomon  had  said,  "  Obey  the  king ;  but  only  in  as  far 
as  this  obedience  can  be  yielded  in  consistency  with 
your  engagements  to  God,  the  King  of  kings,  the  Su- 
preme Ruler,  the  Lord  of  the  conscience,  whose  au- 
thority is  first  and  highest." — That  such  a  limitatio.q 
of  the  precept  is  necessary  to  be  understood,  admits  of 
no  question.  To  the  mightiest  of  earthly  monarchs, 
when  his  commands  are  not  in  harmony  with  those  of 
heaven,  but  call  for  a  violation  of  ^'  conscience  towards 
God,"  we  must  say,  with  all  respectful  mildness,  yet 

*  "  He  who  is  strong-,  i.e.  impudent  with  his  face  shall  be  hated."— i'ar^-. 
liurst — "  wisdom  enliveneth  a  man's  countenance,  but  austerity  in  the  looks 
is  hateful." — Hodgson. 


358  LECTURE  XV. 

with  immoveable  determination,  '^  Whether  it  be  right 
in  the  sight  of  God  to  hearken  unto  you  more  than  unto 
God,  judge  ye." — "  We  must  obey  God  rather  than 
men."* 

In  this  view  of  the  words,  the  expression  "  the  oath 
of  God"  might  possibly  mean  the  oath  so  frequently 
taken  by  Jehovah  himself  to  maintain  his  word  invio- 
late, confirming  "  by  two  immutable  things  in  which 
it  is  impossible  for  God  to  lie"  both  his  promises  to 
obedience  and  his  threatenings  against  transgression. 
^^  As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord  God,"  gives  the  promise  all 
its  power  of  encouragement,  and  the  threatening  ail  its 
energy  of  dissuasion. 

The  more  simple  and  probable  meaning,  however, 
is,  the  oath  of  fidelity  and  allegiance  to  the  king  which 
they  had  taken  in  the  name  of  God, — in  his  presence, 
and  under  appeal  to  Him  and  his  awful  sanction.  You 
have  sworn  obedience  and  fealty :  see  that  ye  do  not 
forswear  yourselves,  by  disobedience  and  rtbellion. 

"Be  not  hasty  to  go  out  of  his  sight:" — that  is, 
either  to  leave  his  presence,  or  to  throw  up  your  office 
and  quit  his  service  with  inconsiderate  rashness,  under 
the  hurrying  influence  of  caprice  or  passion  ;  whether  the 
king  be  displeased  with  you,  or  you  with  him.  Be  not 
imprudently  hasty  and  precipitate.  "  If  the  spirit  of  the 
ruler  rise  up  against  thee,  leave  not  thy  place  ;  for  yield- 
ing pacifieth  great  offences."  Quickness  and  irritability 
of  temper  are  culpable  towards  any  man  ;  they  are  par- 
ticularly reprehensible  towards  one  to  whom  we  owe 
the  highest  official  respect. 

"  Stand  not,"  (that  is,  persist  not,)  *•  in  an  evil  thing:" 
—If  you  are  conscious  of  having  done  wrong,  be  prompt 
to  confess  it,  and  to  submit  thyself  to  the  royal  clemency. 

*  Acts  iv.  19.   V.  29. 


ECCLES.  VIII.  1 — 8.  359 

Do  not  persist  in  high-spirited  self-vindication,  whilst 
you  are  secretly  sensible  of  your  error.  There  are  some 
tempers  so  peculiar,  so  proudly  peculiar,  that  they  will 
much  rather  make  confession  to  an  equal,  and  still  more 
readily  to  an  inferior,  than  to  one  who  is  above  them. 
But  readiness  to  own  an  error  or  a  fault  is  our  duty  to 
all.  It  is  a  part  of  true  wisdom.  It  amounts  to  saying, 
—what  a  man  must  be  very  self-sufficient  indeed  who 
is  unwilling  to  say, — '*  I  am  sensible  that  I  may  err ; 
and  in  seeing  my  error  to-day,  I  am  wiser  and  better 
minded  than  I  was  yesterday." 

A  special  reason  is  assigned  for  the  admonition,  as 
it  regards  our  conduct  to  rulers  : — "  for  he  doeth  what- 
soever pleaseth  him."  Whilst  your  first  and  most  sacred 
regard  should  be  to  the  '^  oath  of  God,"  yet  your  own 
interest  is  also  involved.  You  are  in  the  king's  power. 
He  may  degrade  you  from  your  station,  deprive  you 
of  your  emoluments,  and  inflict  upon  you  such  punish- 
ment as  shall  not  be  alleviated  by  the  consciousness 
of  its  being  undeserved.  The  headstrong  passion  that 
persists  in  evil,  because  it  cannot  brook  submission,  is 
itself  inexcusable;  and  it  may  cost  you  dear:  for, 

Verse  4.  "  Where  the  word  of  a  king  (is,  there  is) 
power;  and  who  may  say  unto  him.  What  doest  thou  ?" 
— The  royal  authority  is  accompanied  with  power;  so 
that  what  it  wills  and  ordains  it  has  ability  to  carry  into 
execution.  Perverse  resistance  and  obstinate  seif-vin- 
dication  are,  therefore,  vain  and  hazardous.  It  is  your 
interest,  as  well  as  your  duty,  to  confess  and  to  sub- 
mit. "  For  who  may  say  unto  him.  What  doest  thou  ?" 

There  are  cases,— there  were  then,  and  there  are  still, 
— in  which  to  say  so  would  not  only  be  proper,  but  an 
incumbent  duty.  The  man  who  has  been  called  in  pro- 
vicknce  to  the  high  and  important  statioa  of  a  counsel- 


360  LECTURE  XV. 

lor  to  royalty,  is  under  the  most  sacred  obligatioHB, 
both  to  his  master  and  to  his  country,  to  fulfil  his  trust 
with  incorruptible  integrity  ;  obligations  which  he  ought 
to  feel,  even  apart  from  "  the  oath  of  God ;"  though 
he  should  not  forget  that  it  also  lies  upon  him.  If  the 
king  discovers  an  inclination  to  adopt  and  to  follow  un- 
just, oppressive,  or  otherwise  pernicious  measures,  such 
a  man,  as  he  must  answer  to  God,  should  feel  himself 
bound,  with  all  becoming  respect  indeed,  yet  with  un- 
shaken firmness,  and  at  whatever  risk,*to  ^^  say  to  him, 
What  doest  thou?"  and  to  endeavour,  by  all  possible 
means  of  persuasion,  to  "  stay  his  hand."  A  counsellor 
that  has  principle  to  do  this,  is  the  greatest  blessing, 
(alas  !  that  the  blessing  should  in  all  ages  have  been  so 
rare  ! )  that  a  monarch  can  possess.  If  his  master  feels 
not  the  value  of  his  faithful  counsel,  and,  in  the  pride 
and  folly  of  his  heart,  will  take  his  own  way,  such  a 
counsellor^  will  be  venerated  in  his  abdication  or  his 
downfall ;  and  having,  like  Micaiah,  the  son  of  Imlah — 
("  faithful  only  he,  among  the  Pithless  !")— exonerated 
his  conscience  by  wholesome,  though  unpalatable,  ad- 
vice, he  will  enjoy  also  the  blessing  of  inward  peace,  even 
if  the  consequences  of  his  fidelity  should  to  himself  be 
irons  and  a  dungeon,  with  "  bread  of  affliction,  and 
water  of  affliction." 

But  it  is  not  at  all  of  such  firmness  of  integrity  that 
Solomon  here  speaks.  It  is  of  the  man  who  "  persists 
in  an  evil  thing."  It  is  from  this  that  he  dissuades,  as 
implying  at  once  sin  and  folly ;  the  sin  of  adding  the 
vindication  of  evil  to  the  doing  of  it,  and  the  folly  of 
provoking,  by  such  fool-hardiness,  a  power  so  far  su- 
perior to  his  own. 

The  best  way,  accordingly,  of  shunning  the  king's 
displeasure,  and  the  vengeance  of  the  law,  is  prescribed 


ECCLfeS.  VIII.  l-=-8.  361 

ifi  the  fifth  verse  :— "  Whoso  keepeth  the  command- 
ment shall  feel  no  evil  thing ;  and  a  wise  man's  heart 
discerneth  both  time  and  judgment." 

*'  The  commandment"  here,  may  mean  either  "  the 
king's  commandment,"  according  to  the  phrase  in  the 
second  verse, — or  rather,   perhaps,  the  commandment 
of  God  ;  by  which  may  be  understood  the  will  or  law 
of  God  in  general.  By  the  precepts  of  that  law,  indeed, 
which  He  had  given  to  Israel,  it  was  the  duty  both  of 
the  king  and  people  respectively  to  regulate  their  con- 
duct :   that  law  the  people  were  to  obey  ;  that  law  the 
king  was  to  enforce.     "  The  king's  commandment," 
therefore,  might  be  considered  as  the  law  of  the  iandj* 
given  by  the  Divine  Legislator  himself:  and  the  senti- 
ment expressed  is,  that  the  best  and  surest  way  to  the 
enjoyment  of  a  "quiet  and  peaceable  life,"  under  the 
secure  protection  of  the  governing  powers,   was  "  to 
live  in  all  godliness  and  honesty."  He  who  thus  "  kept 
the  commandment"  should  '^  feel  no  evil  thing."  *'Wha 
is  he  that  will  harm  you,  if  ye  be  followers  of  that  which 
is  good  ?" — The  sentiment,   directions,  and  language 
of  Solomon  in  this  passage,  bear  so  close  a  resemblance; 
to  those  of  Paul,  when  he  writes  on  the  same  subject 
to  the  Christians  at  Rome,  that  we  may  quote  the  latter 
as  a  New  Testament  commentary  on  the  former ; — - 
"  Let  every  soul  be  subject  unto  the  higher  powers  i 
for  there  is  no  power  but  of  God :  the  powers  that  be 
are  ordained  of  God.    Whosoever,  therefore,  resisteth 
the  power,  resisteth  the  ordinance  of  God ;  and  they 
that  resist  shall  receive  to  themselves  condemnation. 
For  rulers  are  not  a  terror  to  good  works,  but  to  the 
evil.  Wilt  thou,  then,  not  be  afraid  of  the  power  ?  Do 
that  which  is  good,  and  thou  shalt  have  praise  of  the 
same  :  for  he  is  the  minister  of  God  to  thee  for  good^ 
Zz 


$62  LECTURE  Xy. 

But  if  thou  do  that  which  is  evil,  be  afraid ;  for  he 
beareth  not  the  sword  in  vain  ;  for  he  is  the  minister 
of  God,  a  revenger,  to  (execute)  wrath  upon  him  that 
doeth  evil.  Wherefore,  ye  must  needs  be  subject,  not 
only  for  wrath,  but  also  for  conscience'  sake.  For,  for 
this  cause  pay  ye  tribute  also  :  for  they  are  God's 
ministers,  attending  continually  upon  this  very  thing. 
Render,  therefore,  to  all  their  dues  ;  tribute  to  whom 
tribute  (is  due;)  custom  to  whom  custom;  fear  to 
whom  fear  ;  honour  to  whom  honour."*— It  is  evident, 
that  these  apostolic  precepts  are  just  those  of  Solomon 
in  a  more  expanded  form.  The  same  "  counsel"  is 
given  ;  it  is  enforced  by  the  same  considerations,  of 
*^  wrath"  and  of  ^'  conscience  ;"  and  the  same  means  are 
prescribed  for  shunning  the  severity  of  the  ruling 
power  ; called  by  Solomon,  "  keeping  the  command- 
ment," by  Paul,  "  doing  that  which  is  good." 

There  are  many  good  people  who  are  very  impru- 
dent people.  Their  behaviour  is  in  the  main  excellent ; 
but,  on  many  occasions,  it  is  exceedingly  inappropri- 
ate. There  is  an  entire  want  about  them  of  that  dis- 
cretion, so  needful  in  the  intercourse  of  life,  which 
enables  its  possessor  to  suit  his  conduct  to  time  and  cir- 
cumstances. Herein  consists  another  eminent  advan- 
tage of  the  man  of  wisdom : — "  A  wise  man's  heart 
discerneth  both  time  and  judgment." 

The  word  translated  "judgment"  is  one  of  very 
extensive  and  general  signification ;  being  applicable 
to  all  ordering,  regulation,  disposition,  aii-angement,  of 
events,  actions,  or  things  It  might  here,  perhaps,  be 
correctly  enough  rendered  propriety;  according  to 
which  every  thing  has  its  right  place  and  due  adjust- 
ment with  others,  in  the  conduct  of  life.     There  are 

*  Rom.  xlii.  1 — 7. 


ECCLES.  VIII.  1 — 8.  363 

three  inquiries,  which  the  man  of  true  wisdom  is  ever 
proposing  to  hini^^M '.— fFhat  should  I  do  ?  fFhen 
should  1  do  it  ?  How  should  it  be  done  ?  He  pays  regard 
not  only  to  the  matter  or  quality  of  his  actions,  but  to 
the  time  and  the  manner  of  them.  He  attends  to  circum- 
stances, in  every  department  of  his  conduct ;  whether 
in  executing  his  own  good  purposes,  or  in  repressing 
and  frustrating  the  evil  designs  of  others  ;  in  imparting 
counsel ;  in  administering  reproof;  in  seeking,  either 
for  himself  or  for  others,  the  redress  of  grievances ;  in 
promoting  needful  improvement  and  reform,  whether 
in  private  or  in  public  affairs  ;  and  in  all  the  every-day 
transactions  and  intercourse  of  life  ; — never  forgetting, 
what  daily  experience  more  and  more  confirms,  that 
success  very  often  depends  as  much  on  the  choice  of 
a  right  season,  and  the  adoption  of  a  proper  way  of  per- 
forming an  action,  as  upon  the  action  itself. — There  are 
many  persons,  on  the  contrary,  who  satisfy  themselves 
with  the  first  only  of  the  inquiries  I  have  mentioned. 
They  mind  the  TVhat,  but  utterly  disregard  the  When 
and  the  How  ;  and,  their  actions  being  in  themselves 
irreprehensible,  they  marvel  that  any  fault  should  be 
found  with  them.  What  have  they  done  that's  wrong? 
And  when  they  are  told  tliey  have  not  been  wrong  in 
what  they  have  done,  but  have  chosen  a  wrong  time 
and  a  wrong  manner  of  doing  it ;  they  feel  very  lightly 
under  the  charge,  and  congratulate  themselves  on  the 
admitted  rectitude  of  the  deed  itself.  That  is  enough 
for  them. 

This  is  very  unwise  :  and  indiscretion  of  this  kind 
has  ever  been  an  abundant  source  of  unhappiness  to 
men  :-r- Verse  6.  "Because  to  every  purpose  there  is 
time  and  judgment,  therefore  the  misery  of  man  (is) 
great  upon  him." 


364  LECTURE  XV. 

The  degree  of  mischief,  and  disappointment,  and 
wretchedness,  arising  amongst  mankind  from  the  want 
of  wise  consideration  of  seasons  and  circumstances,  is 
beyond  calculation.  Were  men  in  general  more  care- 
fully attentive  to  these,  a  large  proportion  of  the  miseries 
of  which  they  complain  might  readily  be  avoided.  But 
some  by  their  weakness,  others  by  their  heedlessness, 
—some  by  their  headstrong  obstinacy,  others  by  their 
excess  of  pliancy,  some  by  impatient  precipitation, 
others  by  procrastinating  dilatoriness,  and  thousands 
in  an  endless  variety  of  other  ways,  are  led  to  overlook 
*'  time  and  judgment,"  and  to  bring  distress  and  ruin 
upon  themselves,  or  others,  or  both. 

Although,  however,  "  the  misery  of  man  is,"  by  these 
means,  '^greater  upon  him," — much  greater,  than  it 
would  otherwise  be  ;  yet  many,  at  the  same  dme,  are 
the  circumstances,  which  human  foresight  cannot  an- 
ticipate,  which  elude  the  penetration  of  the  most  saga- 
cious, and  over  which  the  most  vigilant  can  exercise  no 
control.  The  memory  of  the  past  is  not  associated  in 
man,  unless  by  immediate  prophetic  inspiration,  with 
the  prescience  of  the  future.  The  events  of  coming 
time  being  beyond  the  sphere  of  our  acutest  vision,  we 
must,  in  very  many  cases,  if  we  act  at  all,  act  upon  a 
calculation  of  probabilities.  So  that  the  wisest  of  men, 
and  far  more  those  who  are  deficient  in  ordinary  fore- 
sight, are  liable  to  risks,  from  unanticipated  contingen- 
cies, in  almost  all  that  they  do.  From  this  source,  also, 
there  arise  much  disquieting  solicitude,  frustration  of 
hope,  and  consequent  unhappiness. — This  is  the  senti- 
ment expressed  in  the  seventh  verse  : — 

♦*  For  he  knoweth  not  that  which  shall  be  :  for  who 
can  tell  him  when  it  shall  be  ?"— He  knows  not  himself 
what  events  are  to  come  in  future  time  ;  and  all  his  fel- 


ECCLES.  Vltl.  1 — 8.  365 

lows  being  alike  ignorant,  he  can  obtain  from  no  one 
of  them  any  information,  either  of  the  events  them- 
selves, or  of  the  seasons  of  their  occurrence  :  an  hum- 
bling truth,  of  which  we  are  often  reminded  in  Scrip- 
ture, to  impress  us  with  a  sense  of  our  entire  depen- 
dence. "  Boast  not  thyself  of  to-morrow  ;  for  thou 
knowest  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth."*  *'  Go  to, 
now,  ye  that  say,  To-day  or  to-morrow,  we  will  go 
into  such  a  city,  and  continue  there  a  year,  and  buy  and 
sell,  and  get  gain.  Whereas  ye  know  not  what  (shall 
be)  on  the  morrow  :  for  what  (is)  your  life  ?  It  is  even 
a  vapour,  that  appeareth  for  a  little  tim^,  and  then  va- 
nisheth  away?  For  that  ye  (ought)  to  say.  If  the  Lord 
will,  we  shall  live,  and  do  this  or  that."! 

There  is  one  event, — an  event  appointed  to  all,  re- 
specting the  time  and  circumstances  of  which  this  un- 
certainty is  proverbially  great ;  an  event  on  which,  in 
the  prosecution  of  our  various  schemes,  we  are  too  little 
disposed  to  calculate ;  yet  an  event,  which  has,  times 
innumerable,  interrupted  and  thrown  into  confusion 
and  ruin,  the  plans  and  pursuits  of  men  ;  entailing  mis- 
chief on  their  associates  in  speculation,  and  on  their 
families  or  expectant  heirs. — You  have  anticipated  the 
event  to  which  I  allude.  Of  death  it  may  always  with 
emphasis  be  said,  "  who  can  tell  him  when  it  shall  be  ?" 
It  is  by  God,  the  giver  of  life,  that  ^'  our  days  are  de- 
termined ;  the  number  of  our  months  is  with  him  :  he 
has  appointed  us  our  bounds,  that  we  cannot  pass." — 
No;  "  we  cannot  pass  .-"—for  whensoever  the  time  fixed 
in  his  sovereign  purpose  for  our  removal  arrives,  then, 
in  the  language  of  verse  8th,—"  (There  is)  no  man  that 
hath  power  over  the  spirit,  to  retain  the  spirit,  neither 
(hath  he)  power  in  the  day  of  death  :  and  (there  is)  no 

*  Prov.  xxvii.  1.  f  James  iv.  13 — 15. 


366  LECTURE  XV. 

discharge  in  (that)  war  ;  neither  shall  wickedness  de^ 
liver  those  that  are  given  to  it." 

<*  (There  is)  no  man  that  hath  power  over  the  spirit, 
to  retain  the  spirit." — that  is,  to  keep  the  soul  in  its 
earthly  tabernacle  one  instant  longer  than  God's  ap- 
pointed time.  This  is  true  of  every  man,  and  true  both 
in  regard  to  himself  and  to  others.  The  power  that 
sways  millions  with  a  nod,  fails  here.  The  wealth  that 
procures  for  its  owner  all  that  his  heart  can  wish,  fails 
here.  The  might  of  the  warrior  which  has  slain  its 
thousands,  and  which  no  human  arm  could  withstand, 
fails  here.  The  most  earnest  desire  of  life ;  and  the 
tears,  and  the  wailings,  and  the  fond  caresses  of  dis- 
consolate afi'eciion  ;— all  fail  here.  No  man,  from  the 
prince  to  the  beggar,  has  power  over  his  own  spirit,  or 
over  the  spirit  of  the  dearest  friend  on  earth,  to  retain 
it — no,  not  for  one  moment ;  any  more  than  he  can  ar- 
rest time  in  its  course,  or  stay  the  speed  of  the  impetu- 
ous tempest.  This  is  a  power  that  resides  in  God  alone. 
He  gave  life  ;  he  sustains  it ;  he  sets  the  time  of  its 
continuance.  He  could  add  to  Hezekiah's  life  four- 
teen years,  as  he  could  prolong  the  day,  by  bringing 
back  the  shadow  on  the  dial  of  Ahaz.  Nay,  he  could, 
by  his  incommunicable  power,  restore  the  parted  soul 
to  its  earthly  residence,  after  it  had  fled  away  to  the 
world  of  spirits.  But  such  power  is  not  in  man,  nor  in 
any  creature  :  and  on  the  Divine  exercise  of  it,  which 
is  sovereign  and  uncontrollable,  we  are  incessantly  de- 
pendent. "  If  HE  set  his  heart  upon  man,  (if)  he  gather 
unto  himself  his  spirit  and  his  breath  ;  all  flesh  shall 
perish  together,  and  man  shall  turn  again  unto  dust."* 

"Neither  (hath  he)  power  in  the  day  of  death." — 
In  that  day,  all  power  becomes  alike  impotent.     All 

*  Job  xxxiv.  14>  15. 


ECCLES.  VIII.  1 — 8.  367 

bodily  vigour  gives  way  ;  and  all  mental  resources  and 
devices  are  equally  unavailing  against  the  last  enemy. 
Whatever  may  be  the  wishes  of  a  man's  heart,  he  has 
no  ability  to  effect  them.  Opposition  is  vain.  For  the 
power  of  death  is,  in  truth,  the  power  of  God.  When 
we  speak  of  Death  as  a  person,  and  call  him  *'  the  King 
of  Terrors,"  I  need  not  say  we  use  a  mere  figure  of 
poetry  or  rhetoric. — When  a  physician  succeeds  in  ar- 
resting the  progress  of  a  distemper,  and  bringing  up 
from  the  gates  of  death  the  life  that  was  hanging  in  sus- 
pense, let  us  beware  of  fancying  that  he  counteracts 
any  Divine  intention ;  he  fulfils  one.  His  success  only 
indicates  what  the  purpose  of  providence  had  been ; 
that  the  sickness  should  not  be  unto  death.  The  design 
to  add  fourteen  years  to  Hczekiah's  life  preceded  the 
intimation  of  it,  and  the  application  of  the  simple  means 
prescribed  for  its  accomplishment.  And  although  we 
have  no  intimation  of  the  intentions  of  heaven,  yet  are 
we  equally  sure  that  the  efficacy  of  means  of  recovery, 
in  answer  to  prayer  for  the  Divine  blessing,  only  shows 
us  what  these  intentions,  though  previously  kept  se- 
cret, had  been ;  does  not  frustrate,  but  accomplish 
them. 

"  And  (there  is)  no  discharge  in  (that)  war."— Every 
individual  must  grapple  with  the  last  enemy.  There  is 
no  possibility,  whatever  may  be  our  dread  of  the  con- 
flict, of  procuring  a  discharge,  and  shunning  its  hor- 
rors. No  flight  and  no  concealment  can  save  us;  nor 
are  there  any  weapons  of  eftectual  resistance.  *'  He 
counts  darts  as  stubble,  and  laughs  at  the  shaking  of 
the  spear." — And  it  is  not  here,  as  on  the  plains  of 
Thessaly,  or  the  mountains  of  Gilboa,  or  the  fields 
of  Waterloo,  or  (to  the  personal  feelings  of  the  speaker, 
more  sadly  interesting .  than  /.hem  all)  the  heights  of 


368  LECTURE  XV. 

Salamanca;*  where,  though  hundreds  and  thousands 
fen,  hundreds  and  thousands  escaped  and  survived. 
This  is  a  field  in  which  every  man  must  advance ;  and 
every  man  must  advance  alone,  to  single  combat ;  and 
every  man  in  succession  must  fall.  The  enemy  to  be 
encountered  is  himself  invulnerable  ;  and  whether  the 
struggle  be  short  or  long,  and  however  successful  for  a 
time  our  efforts  may  be  to  parry  or  to  cover  ourselves 
from  his  deadly  thurst,  he  will,  sooner  or  later,  find  his 
way,  with  certain  aim  and  irresistible  force,  to  every 
heart. — If  we  reckon  the  population  of  our  world  at  a 
thousand  millions,  and  the  average  of  a  generation  at 
thirty  years,  it  will  follow,  that  ninety  thousand  die 
every  day,  upwards  of  sixty  every  minute,  one  every 
second  of  time.  How  solemn  the  thought !  How  ra- 
pidly is  the  world  of  spirits  peopling  !  And,  alas  !  that 
there  should  be  so  much  reason  to  fear,  that,  in  past 
generations  at  least,  whatever  may  be  the  case  in  those 
to  come,  hell  has  been  peopled  so  much  faster  than 
heaven  ! 

Whilst  men  of  all  stations  are  the  indiscriminate  vic- 
tims of  death,  so  are  men  of  all  characters.  To  the  chil- 
dren of  God,  "  to  live  is  Christ,  and  to  die  is  gain." 
They  may  meet  the  last  enemy  without  dismay ;  as  a 
friend,  rather  than  an  enemy, — a  friend,  that  comes  to 
introduce  them  to  God.  To  the  wicked  he  is  emphati- 
cally the  King  of  Terrors.  Fondly  would  they  stay  his 
approach  ;  fondly  would  they  shun  the  combat;  dread- 
ing (as  well  they  may)  the  fearful  consequences.  But 
in  vain  :— 

"Neither  shall  wickedness  deliver  them  that  are 
given  to  it." — The  profligate,  the  ungodly,  the  worldly, 

♦  In  the  battle  of  Salamanca,  the  author's  brother  fell.  The  reader  will  ex- 
cuse this  little  anachronism ;  for  such  it  will  seem  from  the  statement  in  the 
Preface,  of  tlie  time  when  these  Lectures  were  first  delivered. 


ECCLES.  VIII.  i — 8.  369 

might,  ill  the  midst  of  their  vicious,  or  of  their  busy 
and  unthinking  career,  laugh  at  the  fears  of  death,  and 
set  the  God  of  heaven  at  scornful  defiance.  But  "  God 
is  not  mocked."  Death  will  have  his  prey.  All  the 
power  and  all  the  arts  of  the  wicked  cannot  withhold  it. 
They  must  die,  and  "  be  driven  away  in  their  wicked- 
ness." They  may  say,  in  the  pride  and  folly  of  their 
minds,  "  We  have  made  a  covenant  with  death,  and 
with  hell  are  we  at  agreement :  when  the  overflowing 
scourge  shall  pass  through,  it  shall  not  reach  unto  us  :" 
— but  they  are  only  "swelling  words  of  vanity  ;"  God 
says  to  them,  "  Your  covenant  with  death  shall  be  dis- 
annulled, and  your  agreement  with  hell  shall  not  stand: 
when  the  overflowing  scourge  shall  pass  through,  ve 
shall  be  trodden  down  by  it."* 

This  passage  suggests  the  following  practical  re- 
flections. 

In  the  first  place.  The  additional  eulogy  of  wisdom, 
should  operate  as  an  additional  excitement  to  seek  it 
from  heaven,  and  to  cultivate  it  by  all  the  means  of  its 
increase  ;  as  at  once  the  richest  excellence,  the  loveliest 
ornament,  the  strongest  recommendation,  and  the  most 
efficient  instrument  of  good,  in  any  character.  Let  What 
Solomon  says  here  impress  his  exhortations  elsewhere: 
— "  Get  wisdom,  get  understanding  ;  forget  (it)  not : 
neither  decline  from  the  words  of  my  mouth.  Forsake 
her  not,  and  she  shall  preserve  thee ;  love  her,  and  she 
shall  keep  thee.  Wisdom  (is)  the  principal  thing ; 
(therefore)  get  wisdom,  and  with  all  thy  getting  get 
understanding.  Exalt  her,  and  she  shall  promote  thee ; 
she  shall  bring  thee  to  honour  when  thou  dost  embrace 
her.  She  shall  give  to  thy  head  an  ornament  of  gold ;  a 
crown  of  glory  shall  she  deliver  to  thee.  Take  fast  hold 

*  Isa.  xxviii.  14 — 18. 

3  A 


^70  LECTURE  XV. 

of  instruction;  let  (her)  not  go:  keep  her;  for  she  (is) 
thy  life."* 

Secondly.  Let  us  manifest  the  influence  of  religious 
principle,  in  becoming  subjection  to  the  government  of 
our  country  ;  from  considerations  both  of  duty  and  of 
discretion.  We  should  feel  it  encumbent  upon  us,  "  to 
*'  shun  all  exasperating  language  ;  to  repress  all  railing 
*'  and  indecent  accusations  against  those  who  have  the 
"  management  of  public  aflPairs ;  to  engage  in  no  viru- 
*'  lent  opposition,  or  hasty  measures ;  to  continue  in 
"  our  place  and  station  ;  not  to  enter  upon,  much  less  to 
''persist  in,  any  turbulent  attempts;  nor  needlessly  to 
"expose  ourselves  to  the  jealousy  and  resentment  of 
"  Government. "t — Not  that  we  must  approve,  in  our 
judgment,  of  every  public  measure  ;  or  that  we  are 
never  to  join  in  temperate  and  constitutional  means  of 
procuring  the  correction  of  abuses,  and  the  rescinding^ 
of  injurious  decisions,  the  alteration  of  what  is  wrong, 
or  the  improvement  of  what  is  right.  But  in  all,  we 
should  be  prudent  and  temperate  ;  influenced  by  sober 
principle  and  genuine  patriotic  regard  to  our  country, 
not  by  presumptuous  self-conceit,  or  revolutionary 
phrenzy.— And  surely  I  may  be  permitted  to  say,  that 
never  was  there  a  period  in  the  history  of  Europe,  when 
the  duty  was  more  imperious,  of  being  cautious,  and 
difliident,  and  tender,  in  our  censures  of  public  men, 
and  public  measures,  than  it  is  in  the  present  day. 
Events  have  been  so  strange,— they  have,  in  innumera- 
ble instances,  so  completely  contradicted  all  the  ordi- 
nary calculations  of  probability  ;  that,  without  a  super- 
human gift  of  foresight,  no  man  could  have  at- all  anti- 
cipated, or  provided  against  them.  Never  was  there  a 
season  to  which  the  language  of  the  seventh  verse  was 

*  Pi'ov. iv.  J— 9,  13.  t  ScoU'.s  Commentary, 


ECCLES.  TTIT.    1 8.  371 

more  applicable,—"  he  knovveth  not  that  which  shall  be; 
and  who  can  tell  him  when  it  shall  be?" — never  a  pe- 
riod at  which  a  wise  man  could  find  it  more  difficult, 
in  devising  public  measures,  to  ^^  discern  time  and 
judgment;"  or  when  it  was  more  unsafe  and  unfair,  to 
judge  of  such  measures  by  their  success  or  their  failure. 
The  constant  wakeful  vigilance  of  a  free  people  over 
the  plans  and  proceedings  of  their  rulers,  is  of  inesti- 
mable benefit.  But  at  such  a  time  as  this,  few  things 
can  be  more  offensive  to  every  Christian  feeling,  than 
to  hear  men  persist  in  talking,  with  indiscriminate  se- 
verity of  censure,  of  the  folly  and  impolicy  of  all  the 
measures  of  the  administration,  it  displays  so  intolera- 
ble a  share  of  arrogant  self-confidence,  coupled  with  a 
deficiency  so  lamentable  of  charity  and  candour.* 

Thirdly.  Let  us  all  recollect,  and  keep  it  in  constant 
remembrance,  that  there  is  one  King,  in  whose  hands, 
and  in  whose  hands  alone,  unlimited  power  is  safe ; 
whose  word  is  law ;  and  in  obeying  whose  authority 
we  can  never  err.  His  commands  are  all  right ;  and 
they  are  alL  beyond  dispute.  To  his  authority  let  us 
yield  a  willing  and  unreserved  subjection  :  for  "  his  law 
is  perfect;  his  statutes  are  right ;  his  commandment  is 
pure;  his  judgments  are  true  and  righteous  altogether." 
— If  such  be  the  imprudence,  such  the  hazard,  of  ob» 
stinate  disobedience  to  an  earthly  monarch;  how  immi- 
nent, think  you,  must  be  the  peril,  how  extreme  the 
folly,  of  the  man,  who  scorns  the  rebukes  of  his  Maker, 
and  hardens  himself  against  God  ?  Who  hath  ever  done 
so,  and  hath  prospered  ?  The  words  of  admonition, 
*'  Stand  not  in  an  evil  thing ;  for  he  doeth  whatsoever 

♦  These  observations  were  originally  delivered  in  February,  1811.  They  are 
retained  without  alteration,  because,  in  the  spirit  of  them,  they  are  applicable 
to  all  times,  and  especially  to  all  seasons  of  public  difficulty  and  embarrass- 
ment, arising  frona  the  perplexing  darkness  of  providential  arrangement;. 


37S  LECTURE  XV. 

pleaseth  him  :  where  the  word  of  a  king  (is,  there  is) 
power;  and  who  may  say  unto  him,  What  doest  thou  ?" 
— may  here  be  applied  with  unlimited  emphasis.  Yes : 
where  the  word  of  this  king  is,  there  is  power;  al- 
mighty, irresistible  power ;  power,  which  no  created 
arm  can  defy  with  impunity. — Whilst  you  carefully  en- 
deavour to  order  your  temporal  affairs  with  that  discre- 
tion which  may  insure  success  and  prosperity  ;  O  with 
what  miserable  imprudence  do  you  conduct  yourselves, 
whilst  you  live  in  forgetfulness  of  God,  and  in  thought- 
less disregard  of  death,  and  judgment,  and  eternity  ! 
No  imprudence  can  be  equal  to  this.  "  A  wise  man's 
heart  discerneth  both  time  and  judgment."  Is  it  then 
consistent  with  the  character  of  a  wise  man  ; — does  it 
accord  with  the  dictates  of  that  prudence,  which  you 
wish  to  apply  to  the  regulation  of  all  your  concerns ; 
that,  although  you  know  "  the  time  to  be  short"  ^nd 
proverbially  uncertain,  and  eternal  consequences  to  be 
depending  on  every  moment  that  passes  over  you,  you 
should  live  unprepared  for  eternity  ?  Is  it  prudent  in 
3'ou,  conscious  as  you  must  be  of  guilt,  to  run  the  risk 
of  encountering  the  displeasure  of  an  offended  God,  and 
to  pay  no  attention  to  the  nature  and  the  vouchers  of 
what  comes  to  you  in  the  form  and  with  the  claims  of 
a  proposal  from  him  ?  Be  persuaded  to  think,  and  to 
think  NOW.  Be  wise  to-day  :  to-morrow  is  not  yours. 
Fourthly.  Let  these  admonitions  be  enforced,  by  the 
absolute  and  infiillible  certainty  of  your  coming  to  death. 
Had  you  "power  over  the  spirit  to  retain  the  spirit," 
or  could  you  procure  a  ^^  discharge"  from  the  conflict 
with  the  last  enemy  ; — could  you  prolong  your  life  at 
pleasure,  and  secure  to  yourselves  immortality  on  earth; 
then  might  you,  with  some  pretensions  to  reason,  dis- 
regard our  serious  warnings,  and  take  your  own  way. 


ECCLES.  VIII.  1 — 8.  373 

But  well  you  know,  it  is  far  otherwise.  The  hour  of 
your  departure  is  to  you,  as  it  is  to  all,  a  secret :  "  Who 
can  tell  you  when  it  shall  be  ?"  But  it  is  fixed  ; — fixed 
in  the  purpose  of  Him  "  without  whom  a  sparrow  falleth 
not  to  the  ground."  It  is  fixed  ;— and,  for  aught  you 
can  tell,  it  may  be  very  near.  You  may  not  be  destined 
to  see  the  shining  of  to-morrow's  sun;  and,  if  you 
should,  to-morrow  will  still  be  as  uncertain  as  to-day. 
Many  of  those  who  are  dying  to-day  had  as  little 
thought  of  it  yesterday,  as  those  who  are  living  to-day 
have  of  dying  to-morrow.  The  "  King  of  terrors"  you 
must  meet, — you  must  encounter  :  and  it  is  a  conflict  in 
which  "the  help  of  man  is  vain  ;"  in  which  fellow- 
creatures  can  do  you  no  service.  And,  will  you,  then, 
engage  this  enemy  alone  ?  Will  you  enter  the  lists  with 
him  single-handed  ?  Will  you  meet  him  without  the 
armour  of  God  ? — without  the  shield  of  faith,  and  the 
helmet  of  hope  ?  without  the  breastplate  of  righteous- 
ness, and  the  sword  of  the  Spirit  ?  Will  you  venture 
into  the  dark  valley,  without  the  Lord  with  you, — with- 
out his  rod  and  his  staff  to  comfort  you  ?  Will  you  be 
your  own  light, — your  own  strength,— your  own  salva- 
tion ?  O  blind  self-sufficiency !  O  thoughtless  and  in- 
fatuated presumption  !  You  give  this  a  wrong  name 
when  you  call  it  courage.  It  is  insensibility ; — the  in- 
sensibility of  ignorance. — Look  unto  Jesus.  He  has 
"  abolished  death,  and  brought  life  and  incorruption  to 
light,  by  the  gospel."  *' Through  death,  he  has  de- 
stroyed him  that  had  the  power  of  death,  that  is,  the  de- 
vil ;  and  delivered  them  who,  through  fear  of  death,  were 
all  their  lifetime  subject  to  bondage."  Believing  in  him, 
building  your  hopes  on  him,  living  to  him,  you  will  be 
safe  j  and  no  otherwise.  You  may  then  anticipate  death 
with  a  measure  of  his  feelings  who  said,  "To  me  to 


374f         LECTURE  XV.    ECCLES.  Till.   1 8. 

live  is  Christ ;  and  to  die  is  gain.  I  am  in  a  strait 
betwixt  two,  having  a  desire  to  depart  and  to  be  with 
Christ,  which  is  far  better."  And  at  the  solemn  hour 
when  you  must  bid  a  final  adieu  to  the  world,  when  to 
you  "  time  shall  be  no  longer,"  you  may  say,  in  hum- 
ble, yet  triumphant,  confidence,  "  O  death  !  where  (is) 
thy  sting?  O  grave  !  where  (is)  thy  victory  ?  The  sting 
of  death  (is)  sin ;  and  the  strength  of  sin  (is)  the  law : 
but  thanks  (be)  unto  God,  who  giveth  us  the  victory 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 


LECTURE  XVI. 


EccLES.  viii.  9 — 17. 

y  "  Ml  thin  have  I  seen,  aJid  applied  mij  keart  unto  every  work  that  is 
done  tinder  the  sun  :  ("there  is  J  a  time  wherein  one  man  ruleth  over 

10  another  to  his  own  hurt.  And  so  I  saw  the  wicked  buried,  who  had 
come  and  gone  from  the  place  of  the  holy,  and  they  were  forgotten 

11  in  the  city  where  they  had  so  dene.  This  (is)  also  vanity.  Because 
sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily,  therefore  the 

12  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil.  Though  a 
sinner  do  evil  an  hundred  times,  and  his  ("days J  be  prolo7iged,  yet 
surely  I  know  that  it  shall  be  well  with  them  that  fear  God,  who 

13  fear  before  him  :  But  it  shall  not  be  well  with  the  wicked,  neither 
shall  he  prolong  fhisj  days,  (which  are  J  as  a  shadow  ;  because  he 

14  fcarcth  not  before  God.  There  is  a  vanity  which  is  done  upon  the 
earth  ;  that  there  be  just  fmen,J  unto  whom  it  happencth  according 
to  the  work  of  the  wicked :  again,  there  be  wicked  ('?nen,J  to  whom 
it  hafipeneth  according  to  the  work  of  the  righteous.  I  said, that  this 

15  also  fisj  vanity.  Then  I  commended  mirth,  because  a  man  hath  no 
better  thing  under  the  sun,  than  to  eat,  and  to  drink,  and  to  be 
merry  ;  for  that  shall  abide  with  him  of  his  labour  the  days  of  his 

16  life,  which  God  giveth  him  tinder  the  sun.  When  I  applied  7nine 
heart  to  know  wisdom,  and  to  see  the  business  that  is  done  upon  the 
earth  :  \^for  also  f  there  is  that  J  neither  day  nor  night  secth  sleep 

\7  with  his  eyes:']  Then  I  beheld  all  the  wsrk  of  God,  that  a  man  can- 
not  find  out  the  work  that  is  done  tinder  the  sun  :  because  though  a 
man  labour  to  seek  fit  J  out, yet  he  shall  not  find  (it ;)  yea,furlhery 
though  a  wise  fman)  think  to  know  fit, J  yet  shall  he  not  be  able  /■> 
fnd  OO" 


Apart  from  Divine  testimony,  observation  and  ex- 
perience are  the  surest  grounds  of  accurate  knowledi^e. 
In  the  book  of  Ecciesiastes,  we  have  not  the  thouglits 
and  opinions  of  a  man,  who,  with  Httlc  or  no  attention 
to  facts,  sits  down  in  his  closet,  to  commit  to  writing-, 
the  speculations,  conjectures,  and  theories  of  an  inven- 
tive and  ingenious  mind.  We  have  the  results  of  a  per- 


376  LECTURE  XVI. 

sonal  survey :  of  a  close  and  acute  inspection  of  men 
and  things ;  confirmed,  in  many  instances,  by  actual 
trial,  and  recorded  under  the  superintendence  of  the 
Spirit  of  truth.  The  book,  therefore,  possesses  a  pecu- 
liar interest,  as  combining,  in  the  lessons  which  it 
teaches,  the  evidence  of  human  experiment  with  the 
sanction  of  Divine  authority. 

"  All  this  have  I  seen^'''  says  Solomon,  in  the  first  of 
these  verses,  "  and  applied  my  heart  unto  every  work 
that  is  done  under  the  sun  :— that  is,  to  the  attentive 
observation,  and  diligent  scrutiny,  both  of  the  proce- 
dure of  providence  towards  this  world,  and  of  the  con- 
duct of  mankind  in  the  various  conditions  of  life. — And 
in  the  course  of  his  survey,  there  was  one  thing  which 
he  had  not  unfrequently  remarked,— that  superiority  to 
others,  the  possession  and  exercise  of  authority,  was 
coveted  by  many,  widiout  due  consideration  of  its  ten- 
dencies ;  that  unless  the  power  be  well  and  wisely  used, 
it  had  better,  even  for  the  sake  of  its  possessor,  be 
wanted:  "  (There  is)  a  time  wherein  one  man  ruleth 
over  another  to  his  own  hurt." 

Had  not  Solomon  himself  experienced  the  truth  of 
this  ?  His  royal  honour  was  at  once  his  temptation  to 
sin,  and  his  opportunity  ;  and  in  sinning  himself,  he  led 
his  subjects  astray  along  with  him.  This  turned  out 
"  to  his  own  hurt,"  as  well  as  to  the  hurt  of  his  people  ; 
for  it  was  in  consequence  of  this  perversion  of  his  au- 
thority by  which  he  "  made  Israel  to  sin,"  that  the 
Lord  stirred  up  against  him  various  adversaries,  to  ha- 
rass him,  and  to  disturb  the  peace  of  his  reign,  and 
forewarned  him  of  the  rending  away  of  ten  of  the  tribes 
of  Israel  from  the  dominions  of  his  son. — Besides,  as 
Solomon  when  forsaking  Jehovah,  following  the  world, 
and  "  going  after  strange  gods,"  could  not  be  satisfied 


ECCLES.  VIII.  9 — 17.  377 

with  himself;  and  as  a  conscience  that  is  ill  at  ease,  a 
self-upbraiding  spirit,  usually  produces  a  very  unhappy 
effect  upon  the  temper,  rendering  a  man,  in  his  con- 
duct towards  others,  hasty,  passionate,  sullen,  and  ca- 
pricious ;  it  is  not  improbable  that  some  ground  had 
been  given  by  him,  during  the  time  especially  of  his 
defection  from  the  service  of  God,  for  the  complaints 
afterwards  made  by  his  subjects  to  his  son  and  succes- 
sor respecting  the  grievousness  of  his  yoke,  when  they 
presented  their  unsuccessful  petition  for  its  mitigation, 
and  for  a  gentler  system  of  rule. 

The  influence  of  a  disquieted  conscience  in  producing 
angry  and  capricious  rigour,  is  exemplified  in  the  case 
of  Asa  :  who,  when  reproved  by  Hanani  the  seer,  for 
his  folly  and  distrust  of  Jehovah,  and  threatened,  as  his 
punishment,  with  wars  for  the  remainder  of  his  reign, 
*'  was  wroth  with  the  seer,  and  put  him  in  the  prison 
house:  and  Asa,"  it  is  added  in  the  history,  "  oppressed 
(some)  of  the  people  the  same  time."  He  wreaked  his 
unreasonable  anger  against  this  prophet,  and  his  secret 
rankling  dissatisfaction  with  himself,  in  acts  of  passion- 
ate severity  towards  his  subjects. 

Some  of  Solomon's  successors  in  the  throne  of  Ju- 
dah,  and  many,  alas !  of  the  kings  of  Israel,  might  be 
produced  as  exemplifications  of  the  truth  here  stated ; 
and  not  a  few  might  be  added  from  the  general  history 
of  both  ancient  and  modern  nations. — Often  have  un- 
principled and  oppressive  tyrants  brought  upon  them- 
selves the  vengeance  of  their  subjects,  and  come  to  an 
untimely  end.  They  have  "  ruled  over  others  to  their 
own  hurt;"  their  power  having  prospered  for  a  time, 
but  ultimately  involved  them  in  insurrection  and  ruin. 
And  even  if  they  should  escape  the  indignant  fury  of 
the  oppressed,  still  the  abuse  of  power  is  to  their  hurt .; 
3B 


378  LECTURE  XVI. 

for  "  be  that  is  higher  than  the  highest  regardeth,"  and 
they  "  treasure  up  to  themselves  wrath  against  the  day 
of  wrath,  and  revelation  of  the  righteous  judgments  of 
God." 

It  is,  primarily  at  least,  to  such  characters,  that  the 
tenth  verse  refers  : — "  And  so  I  saw  the  wicked  buried, 
who  had  come  and  gone  from  the  place  of  the  holy  ; 
and  they  were  forgotten  in  the  city  where  they  had  so 
done.  This  (is)  also  vanity." 

By  "  the  place  of  the  holy"  some  understand  the  seat 
of  judgment,  which  in  chap.  iii.  16.  had  been  denomi- 
nated "  the  place  of  righteousness."  It  is  the  place 
which  ought  to  be  occupied  by  the  holy,  and  not  by 
the  wicked,  and  over  which  the  Most  Holy  may  be 
considered  as  presiding,  with  peculiar  jealousy  of  its 
purity,  and  displeasure  at  its  corruption.  And  by  the 
wicked  being  buried  who  had  occupied  this  honourable 
seat,  they  conceive  to  be  meant,  his  being  buried  with 
all  the  splendour  of  funeral  pomp,  with  all  the  ceremo- 
nial of  lamentation  and  wo : — whilst  their  being  "  for- 
gotten in  the  city"  is  thought  to  refer  to  the  change 
produced  in  the  public  mind  by  death ;— to  that  kind 
of  good-natured  disposition  which  leads  men  to  say  no 
ill  of  the  dead, — to  deal  gently  with  their  faults, — to 
palliate  and  even  to  banish  from  their  remembrance  the 
very  enormities  for  which  they  cursed  them  during  their 
lives;  and  to  honour  in  death  those  who  disgraced  them- 
selves in  life. 

But  this  view  is  neither  natural  in  itself,  nor  suitable 
to  the  connection. — Solomon  had  said,  in  the  eighth 
verse,  that  *'  wickedness  could  not  deliver  those  that 
were  given  to  it,"  from  the  stroke  of  death :— nay,  at 
times,  as  he  adds  in  the  ninth  verse,  a  man's  wicked- 
ness, especially  in  the  abuse  of  power,  might  prove  the 


EccLES.  viir.  9 — 17.  379 

means  of  hurt  and  ruin  to  himself.  It  is  the  same  sen. 
timent  that  he  continues  to  illustrate  in  verse  10. — "  I 
saw  the  wicked,  who  had  come  and  gone  from  the  place 
of  the  holy," — who  had  attended  the  sanctuary,  joined 
in  the  worship  of  God,  and  cloaked  their  unrighteous- 
ness and  oppression  under  the  garb  of  external  piety, — 
who  had  "come  and  gone,"  continuing  their  hypocri- 
tical career  in  safety,  no  marks  of  Divine  vengeance 
visiting  them  for  their  awful  profanation  and  odious  dis- 
sembling;— I  saw  the  wicked,  who  had  lately  flourished 
in  their  wickedness,  who,  in  the  possession  of  great 
power,  had  "prospered  in  bringing  evil  devices  to 
pass," — I  saw  them  buried, — the  victims  of  mortality 
equally  with  others  ;  unable  any  more  than  the  meanest 
and  the  weakest  of  their  oppressed  subjects  ^^to  retain 
the  spirit,"  and  having  no  power  more  than  they  in  the 
day  of  death : — I  saw  them  <^«r/W,— carried,  in  affect- 
ing humiliation  and  impotence,  to  "  the  house  ap- 
pointed for  ail  living." — And  this  was  not  only  the 
"  land  of  forgetfulness,"  as  to  any  knowledge  on  their 
part  of  what  was  passing  amongst  men  ;  but  the  "  land 
of  forgetfulness,"  as  to  the  remembrance  of  them  by 
their  survivors  on  earth  :—"  They  were  forgotten  in  the 
city  where  they  had  so  done."  They  had  sought  after, 
and  expected,  perpetual  fame :  but  men  had  no  plea- 
sure in  remembering  them ;  when  out  of  sight,  they 
were  out  of  mind  ;  their  name  and  memory  rotted  with 
their  carcases  in  the  dust. — The  sentiment  is  similar  to 
that  expressed  by  the  Psalmist : — "  I  have  seen  the 
wicked  in  great  power,  and  spreading  himself  like  a 
green  bay  tree:  yet  he  passed  away,  and  lo!  he  (waal 
not;  yea  I  sought  him,  but  he  could  not  be  found."*^ 
I  have  considered  the  expression,  *'  who  had  come 

*  Psal.  xxxvji.  Z5,  36. 


380  LECTURE  XVI. 

and  gone  from  the  place  of  the  holy,"  as  implying  the 
continuance  of  the  course  described,  without  interrup- 
tion by  any  interposition  of  heaven,  or  indication  of 
Divine  displeasure.  The  forbearance  of  God,  and  the 
abuse  of  it  by  men  for  their  encouragement  in  sin,  are 
accordingly  introduced  with  more  particular  emphasis, 
in  the  eleventh  verse  : 

"  Because  sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not  exe- 
cuted speedily,  the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set 
in  them  to  do  evil." — A  matter  of  fact  is  stated  in  these 
words,  with  its  sad  and  fatal  influence  on  the  minds  and 
characters  of  ungodly  and  inconsiderate  men.  "  Sen- 
tence against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily." 
Particular  sins  are  not,  in  the  Divine  administration, 
visited  with  instant  punishment.  Nay?  even  the  man 
who  lives  in  sin,  in  the  daily  and  hourly  defiance  of 
every  restraint,  and  the  fearless  violation  of  every  pre- 
cept of  heaven,  is  allowed  to  pursue  his  course  without 
the  immediate  arrest  of  judicial  vengeance.  The  lips 
of  the  blasphemer  are  not  sealed  in  death  the  moment 
he  has  uttered  his  blasphemy :  he  lives  to  repeat  it  a 
thousand  and  a  thousand  times.  Week  after,  week  is 
the  sabbath-breaker  spared,  to  profane  in  succession  the 
days  of  God.  The  arm  of  justice  is  not  instantly  put 
forth  upon  the  murderer,  while  the  life-blood  is  warm 
on  his  guilty  hands,  to  hurry  him  away  to  the  judgment- 
seat  of  God.  The  secrets  of  impurity  are  not  immedi- 
ately brought  out  to  light,  detected,  exposed,  and  pu- 
nished, by  Him,  from  whose  eye  "  no  darkness  or  sha- 
dow of  death  can  hide  the  workers  of  iniquity."  The 
haughty  tyrant,  the  persecuting  oppressor,  is  not  always, 
in  the  flush  of  his  impious  arrogance,  smitten  by  the  an- 
gel of  the  Lord,  because  he  gives  not  God  the  glory.* 

*  See  Acts  xii.  20—23. 


ECCLES.  VIII.  9 17.  381 

The  "  unprofitable  servant,"— the  useless  cumberer  of 
the  ground,  is  not  cut  down  in  his  first  barren  season, 
but  spared  through  many  a  year  of  fruiilessness  and- 
vain  expectation.  Sinners  of  every  name,  and  of  every 
degree,  continue  to  live,  and  continue  to  prosper. 

Such  being  the  order  of  the  divine  administration, 
such  the  forbearance  and  long-suffering  of  God,  the  cor- 
rupt and  infatuated  children  of  men,  bent  on  the  indul- 
gence of  their  sinful  lusts  and  passions,  "encourage 
themselves  in  an  evil  way  ;"  they  strengthen  themselves 
in  wickedness  ;  hand  joins  in  hand,  in  the  combinations 
of  iniquity;  "their  heart  is  fully  set  in  them  to  do 
evil." 

Future  and  unseen  things  make  a  much  less  lively 
impression  on  the  mind  than  things  that  are  present  and 
seen.  This  world  meets  the  senses  in  ten  thousand 
forms  of  temptation,  whilst  the  world  to  come  is  far  off 
and  invisible.  The  pleasures  of  sin  are  immediate,  af- 
fording present  gratification :  its  future  consequences 
are  distant  and  unfelt.— That  too  which  men,  from 
whatever  principle,  wish  to  be  true,  they  are  naturally 
prone  to  believe  ;  the  judgment  being  the  dupe  of  the 
heart,  and  the  heart  ^^  deceitful  above  all  things."  They 
are  fond  of  thinking  that  sin  will  not  expose  them  to 
such  irremediable  vengeance  as  the  Bible  .threatens. 
They  are  willing  to  be  persuaded  of  this ;  and  they  flat- 
ter themselves  into  the  persuasion,  by  the  wiles  of  a 
thousand  sophistries. — At  first,  it  may  be,  they  commit 
sin  with  a  timid  heart  and  a  trembling  hand.  They  he- 
sitate long.  But  at  length,  though  with  irresolute  tre- 
mor, it  is  done.  No  harm  comes  to  them.  No  indica- 
tions of  the  anger  of  Heaven  follow  the  deed.  They 
feel  themselves  safe.  And,  having  tasted  of  the  sin,  it 
is  sweet;  and  they  desire  it  again.    It  is  done  again  ; 


LECTURE  XVI. 

Still  with  scruple  and  shrinking,  but  with  less  than 
before.  The  third  time,  their  apprehensions  are  still 
weaker;  and  they  learn,  with  less  and  less  remorse, 
to  "  walk  in  the  counsel  of  the  ungodly,  to  stand  in  the 
way  of  sinners,  and  to  sit  in  the  seat  of  the  scornful." 
Finding,  that  they  are  not  struck  dead  on  the  spot,— 
that  "  sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed 
speedily,"  they  begin  to  suspe^ct  whether  God  be  ac- 
tually privy  to  their  words  and  deeds ;  to  say  in  their 
hearts  to  themselves,  and  with  flattering  lips  to  one  an- 
other, *'  God  hath  forgotten  ;  he  hideth  his  face,  he  will 
never  see  it."  They  doubt  of  providence  ;  or  they  flat- 
ter themselves  that  surely  the  Supreme  Ruler,  if  he 
exists  at  all,  and  takes  any  notice  of  the  aff'rtirs  of  men, 
cannot  be  such  an  enemy  to  sin  as  he  has  been  repre- 
sented ;  that  he  will  be  very  merciful  and  lenient  to  the 
frailties  of  his  erring  creatures;  for  how,  say  they,  are 
we  to  know  what  he. means  to  do  in  future,  if  not  by 
what  he  docs  now  ?  He  will  not  be  strict  to  mark  ini- 
quity ;  he  is  good;  and  goodness  shall  at  last  carry  the 
day.  Thus  they  gradually  cast  oft'  restraint,  contemn 
God,  and  say,  "  He  will  not  require  it.'* — This  is  a 
feari'ul  process ;  but  there  is  reason  to  apprehend,  it  is 
not  a  very  uncommon  one.  Wicked  men  are,  in  refer- 
ence to  a  judgment  to  come,  like  Pharaoh  of  old,  who 
persisted  in  hardening  his  heart  against  God,  always 
"  when  he  saw  that  there  was  respite." 

Such  is  the  way  in  which  the  suspension  of  the  sen- 
tence of  God  against  sin, — the  delay  of  punishment, 
affects  the  corrupt  hearts  of  "  the  sons  of  men,"  Instead 
of  "  the  goodness  of  God  leading  them  to  repentence," 
they  take  advantage  of  it ;  they  "  despise  the  riches  of 
his  goodness,  and  forbearance,  and  long-suffering,  and 
after  their  hardness  and  impenitent  heart,  treasure  u,p 


ECCLES.  VIII.  9 17.  383 

unto  themselves  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath,  and 
revelation  of  the  righteous  judgment  of  God." 

But  it  is  an  awful  delusion:— verses  12,13.  "Though 
a  sinner  do  evil  a  hundred  times,  and  his  (days)  be 
prolonged,  yet  surely  1  know  that  it  shall  be  well  with 
them  that  fear  God,  who  fear  before  him :  but  it  shall 
not  be  well  with  the  wicked,  neither  shall  he  prolong 
(his)  days,  (which  are)  as  a  shadow  ;  because  he  feareth 
not  before  God." 

*'  Though  a  sinner  do  evil  a  hundred  times,"  that  is, 
ever  so  many  times  ;  "  and  his  (days)  be  prolonged," — 
no  deadly  vengeance  lighting  on  his  trespasses  ; — 
though  from  present  impunity,  he  become  unceasingly 
bold  in  sin,  going  on  from  bad  to  worse,  till,  at  the 
hundreth  time,  his  conscience  becomes  "seared  as  with 
a  hot  iron  :" — yet  still  there  is  a  distinction  between 
the  righteous  and  the  wicked,  between  him  that  serveth 
God,  and  him  that  serveth  him  not.  "  Surely  I  know," 
— it  was  a  matter  of  firm  and  indubitable  certainty  with 
Solomon,  and  so  should  it  be  \vith  us ;  one  of  those 
fundamental  truths,  one  of  those  moral  axioms,  of  which 
nothing  should  be  allowed  to  shake  our  confident  as- 
surance :— "  It  shall  be  well  with  them  that  fear  God." 
The  fear  of  God  is  here,  as  it  is  very  generally  in  the 
Scriptures,  put  for  the  whole  of  true  religion,  both  in 
its  inward  principles,  and  its  outward  practice,— both 
in  the  heart,  and  in  the  life.  ^'  It  shall  be  wejl  with 
them,"  during  life  ;  the  favour  and  the  blessing  of  God 
attending  them  amidst  all  its  changes,  soothing  their 
sorrows,  and  heightening  the  relish  of  their  joys,  and 
making  "  all  things  to  work  together  for  their  good." 
"  It  shall  be  well  with  them,^'  in  death:— ^^  Mark  the 
perfect  man,  and  behold  the  upright ;  for  the  latter  end 
of  that  man  is  peace  ;"— ."  The  righteous  hath  hope  in 


S84i  LECTURE  XVI. 

his  death:"  '^good  hope,"  resting  on  a  sure  founda- 
tion, securing  his  mind  against  the  agitations  of  fore- 
boding fear,  andenabhug  him  to  say,  "  O  Death,  where 
is  thy  sting?  O  Grave,  where  is  thy  victory?"  ^' It 
shall  be  well  with  them,"  in  the  judgnient :  for  they 
shall  stand  with  acceptance  before  the  throne  of  God  ; 
they  shall  hear  his  voice  address  them  in  blessing,  and 
shall  instantly  feel  the  sentence  fulfilled  in  the  com- 
mencement of  unmingled  and  n'ever-ending  felicity. — 
"But  it  shall  not  be  well  with  the  wicked," — either 
while  he  lives,  or  when  he  dies,  or  when  he  stands  be- 
fore the  tribunal  of  God.  Not  while  he  lives ;  for  even 
when  he  prospers,  it  is  ill  with  him :  the  curse  of  Hea- 
ven is  upon  his  tabernacle,  and  it  secretly  mingles  itself 
with  all  his  enjoyments.  He  is  "  cursed  in  the  city,  and 
cursed  in  the  field  ;  cursed  in  his  basket  and  store ; 
cursed  in  the  fruit  of  his  body,  and  the  fruit  of  his  land, 
in  the  increase  of  his  kine,  and  the  flocks  of  his  sheep  ; 
cursed  when  he  cometh  in,  and  cursed  when  he  goeth 
out." — Not  when  he  dies: — for  he  has  then  nothing 
before  him  but  "  a  fearful  looking  for  of  judgment  and 
fiery  indignation,  which  shall  devour  the  adversaries  :" 
He  shall  be  "  driven  away  in  his  wickedness  "  quit- 
ting in  horror  a  world  that  has  cheated  and  damned  his 
soul :  or  if  he  should  "  have  no  bands  in  his  death," 
the  more  overwhelming  will  be  the  wretchedness  of  his 
disappointment,  when  he  plunges  into  unanticipated 
wo. — Not  when  he  appears  before  the  judgment  seat,— 
for  '^  the  ungodly  shall  not  stand  in  the  judgment,  nor 
sinners  in  the  congregation  of  the  righteous ;  because 
the  Lord  knoweth  the  way  of  the  righteous,  but  the  way 
of  the  ungodly  shall  perish." 

*'  Neither  shall  he  prolong  his  days,  which  are  as  a 
shadow."    The  meaning  is  not,  that  he  shall  not  live 


ECCLES.  VIII.  9 — 17.  385 

long.  Many  an  ungodly  man  reaches  and  passes^the 
limit  of  *'  threescore  years  and  ten."  But  his  time  of 
departure  must  come.  It  may  be  earlier  or  later.  He 
may  "do  evil  a  hundred  times  and  his  days  be  pro- 
longed." But  it  cannot  be  always  so.  His  days  are  still 
"as  a  shadow;"  they  pass  successively  away,  and  the 
last  of  them  must  quickly  arrive.  And  when  it  does  ar- 
rive, every  wish  for  prolonged  life  will  be  vain.  He  will 
not  be  able  to  command  the  addition  of  a  single  day, 
any  more  than  to  arrest  "  the  shadow's  fleeting  form," 
Even  when  he  is  most  anxious  to  live,  the  time  may 
come  for  him  to  die:— when  he  anticipates  most  joy- 
ously a  lengthened  journey,  he  may  reach  the  "bound 
which  he  cannot  pass:" — when  his  heart  is  beating 
highest  with  worldly  expectation,  its  last  pulse  may  be 
near  at  hand.  And  then  "  wickedness  shall  not  deliver 
him  that  is  given  to  it."  He  "shall  not  prolong  his 
days."  The  shadow  must  pass.  "  His  breath  goeth 
forth  ;  he  returneth  to  his  dust  :  in  that  very  day,  his 
thoughts  perish." 

Although,  however,  there  is  a  distinction,  of  which 
the  Lord  and  Judge  of  all  never  loses  sight,  between 
the  righteous  and  the  wicked ;  yet,  in  the  administra- 
tion of  Divine  providence,  character  is  not  the  measure 
for  the  distribution  of  temporal  good.  This  is  the  sen- 
timent expressed  in  the  fourteenth  verse  : — "  There  is  a 
vanity  which  is  done  upon  the  earth  ;  that  there  be  just 
(men)  to  whom  it  happeneth  according  to  the  work  of 
the  wicked ;  again,  there  be  wicked  (men)  to  whom  it 
happeneth  according  to  the  work  of  the  righteous.  I 
said,  this  also  (is)  vanity." — The  investigation  of  this 
mystery  in  the  providence  of  God,  (for  it  is  of  provi- 
dence that  Solomon  evidently  speaks,)  we  shall  defer 
till  our  next  lecture  ;  the  sentiment  which  is  expressed 
3C 


386  LECTURE  XTI. 

in  the  verse  now  before  us  being  enlarged  upon  in  the 
be'^inning  of  the  following  chapter. — The  matter  of  fact, 
I  only  observe  at  present,  is  now,  as  it  was  then,  mani- 
fest to  every  observer.  And  well  might  it  be  denomi- 
nated, in  relation  to  the  great  design  of  this  treatise, 
*'  a  vanity."  Nothing  could  more  strikingly  show  the 
vanity  of  the  world,  and  the  folly  of  excessive  attach- 
ment to  its  pleasures,  or  confidence  in  its  possessions. 
For  can  any  thing  be  more  irrational,  than  to  fix  the 
heart  on  what  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  secure,  by  any 
means,  or  by  any  course  of  conduct ;  what  is  uncertain 
to  the  good  as  well  as  to  the  bad,  and  is  neither  exclu- 
sively connected,  in  the  purpose  and  procedure  of  God^ 
with  righteousness  nor  with  wickedness ;  what  is  neither 
retained  by  the  one,  nor  forfeited  by  the  other ;  what 
is  neither  a  mark  of  Divine  satisfaction,  nor  of  Divine 
displeasure  ;  what  may  be  given  with  a  frown  and  taken 
away  .with  a  smile;  what  the  possession  of  may  be  a 
curse,  and  the  loss  of  may  be  a  blessing. — The  very 
arrangement  itself,  besides,  when  viewed  without  rela- 
tion to  a  future  world,  bears  the  aspect  of  vanity.  It 
seems  strange,  unreasonable,  unaccountable ;  like  the 
result  of  a  vain  and  unsettled  caprice,  rather  than  of  a 
wise  and  well-directed  principle. 

Verse  15.  "Then  I  commended  mirth,  because  a 
man  hath  no  better  thing  under  the  sun,  than  to  eat, 
and  to  drink,  and  to  be  merry;  for  that  shall  abide  with 
him  of  his  labour  the  days  of  his  life,  which  God  giveth 
him  under  the  sun." 

This  may  be  understood  in  two  ways,  according  to 
the  tbne  at  which  we  suppose  the  commendation  of 
mirth  to  have  been  uttered. — First,  we  might  consider 
it  as  the  libertine  conclusion,  drawn  by  Solomon,  from 
the  state   of  things  here  described?  in  the  \[  days  of 


ECCLEs.  Tin.  9 — 17.  387 

his  vanity  :"— as  if  he  had  said, — "  Seeing  these  things 
are  so,  let  us  indulge  ourselves.  What  better  can  we 
do,  than  to  enjoy  the  world  while  it  is  in  our  power? 
Let  us  eat,  and  drink,  and  be  merry ;  for  the  pleasure 
which  a  man  has  actually  enjoyed  is  that  alone  which 
he  can  say  with  certainty  is  his  own  ;  that  alone  which 
he  is  sure  shall  abide  with  him  of  his  labour  ;  that  alone 
of  which  he  cannot  be  bereaved  or  disappointed." — 
Or,  secondly,  we  might  interpret  it  as  his  serious  in« 
ference,  in  the  days  of  his  returning  wisdom,  respect- 
ing the  use  which  a  man  should  make  of  worldly  good, 
while  God  is  pleased  to  bless  him  with  the  possession 
of  it.  In  this  case,  "  mirth"  must  be  understood,  not 
of  licentious  jollity,  but  of  the  cheerful  enjoyment  of 
the  bounties  of  Heaven ,  and  "eating  and  drinking," 
of  the  happy  and  unsolicitous  use  of  that  portion  of  the 
world's  good  which  Divine  kindness  has  bestowed. 
The  measure  of  a  man's  earthly  prosperity,  and  of  the 
success  of  his  labour,  is  a  matter  of  complete  uncer- 
tainty :  but  a  cheerful  and  contented  spirit,  disposed  to 
enjoy  whatever  portion  is  sent,  is  a  sure  and  constant 
blessing.  "The  secret  of  happiness,  as  far  as  it  depends 
on  the  things  of  time,  is  to  enjoy  prosperity  cheerfully, 
and  without  the  irksome  and  depressing  apprehensions 
of  an  anxious  mind,  as  long  as  it  continues  ;  and  if  it  is 
lessened  or  withdrawn,  still  to  receive  our  diminished 
and  stinted  supplies  with  the  same  cheerful  and  buoy- 
ant gratitude  ; — thus  making  the  best  of  that,  which, 
both  in  its  degree  and  its  continuance,  is  so  prover- 
bially uncertain. — Amidst  all  changes,  this  happy  frame 
of  spirit  may  be  preserved.  It  is  a  "joy"  with  which 
•' a  stranger  cannot  intermeddle."  "A  merry  heart 
doeth  good  like  a  medicine."  *^  He  that  is  of  a  merry 
heart,  hath  a  continual  feast." 


388  LECTURE  XVI. 

In  this  view  of  the  verse,  it  contains  much  the  same 
sentiment  as  on  different  occasions  has  been  already 
before  us.*  He  does  not  mean,  that  the  unrestrained 
enjoyment  of  temporal  pleasures  is  the  chief  good.  The 
whole  tenor  of  his  treatise  belies  such  a  supposition. 
Neither  does  he  mean, — that  even  in  the  enjoyment  of 
the  things  of  this  world,  we  are  to  be  selfish,  and  to 
consult  exclusively  our  own  immediate  gratification. 
This  is  not  less  inconsistent  with  the  general  spirit,  and 
the  express  declarations  of  the  book.  His  language  is 
neither  that  of  libertinism,  nor  of  selfishness.  It  is  the 
language  of  experienced  discretion  j  of  piety  and  prac- 
tical wisdom  ; — recommending  contented  cheerfulness, 
— the  thankful  reception,  and  the  free,  unanxious,  and 
lively  enjo)  ment,  of  whatever  portion  of  earthly  things 
the  providence  of  God  may  be  pleased  to  bestow  ;  as 
the  only  way  of  extracting  from  them  such  happiness 
as  they  are  fitted  to  yield  :  the  only  way  of  at  all  re- 
deeming them  from  the  charge  of  utter  "  vanity  and 
vexation  of  spirit." 

Verses  16,  17.  '*  When  I  applied  my  heart  to  know 
wisdom,  and  to  see  the  business  that  is  done  upon  the 
earth  ;  [for  also  (there  is  that)  neither  day  nor  night 
seeth  sleep  with  his  eyes  :]  then  I  beheld  all  the  work 
of  God,  that  a  man  cannot  find  out  the  work  that  is  done 
under  the  sun  ;  because  though  a  man  labour  to  seek 
(it)  out,  yet  shall  he  not  find  (it;)  yea,  further,  though 
a  wise  (man)  seek  to  know  (it,)  yet  shall  he  not  be  able 
to  find  it." 

These  verses  express  the  difficulties  which  Solomon 
experienced,  the  inextricable  perplexities  in  which  he 
found  himself  involved,  in  one  department  especially 
of  his  researches  after  knowledge  ;  in  observing  the 

♦  Chap.  il.  23.     iii,  12,  13.    v.  18. 


ECCLES.  Tin.  9 — 17.  389 

labours  of  men,  in  connection  with  the  providence  of 
God. — In  the  sixteenth  verse,  "  the  business  done  un- 
der the  sun"  refers  to  the  toil  and  travail  of  mankind, 
in  all  its  endless  varieties.  In  contemplating  these,  he 
observed  the  mystery  of  providence.  He  saw  that  suc- 
cess was  far  from  being  uniformly  proportioned  to  the 
measure  of  human  diligence,  solicitude,  and  skill.  He 
saw  many,  "rising  early,  and  sitting  late,  and  eating  the 
bread  of  carefulness  ;"  "  neither  day  nor  night  seeing 
sleep  with  their  eyes,"  though  plodding  eagerness  for 
the  acquisition  of  property,  or  anxious  fears  about  its 
safety.  And  yet  their  days  of  toil,  and  nights  of  sleep- 
lessness were  vain;  success  and  security  depending 
upon  God  :  for  "  except  the  Lord  build  the  house,  they 
labour  in  vain  that  build  it ;  except  the  Lord  keep  the 
city,  the  watchman  waketh  in  vain." — And  then,  the 
procedure  of  God,  in  reference  to  the  works  and  ways 
of  men,  was  "  a  great  deep  ;"  full  of  mystery  ;  to  the 
eye  of  the  human  observer,  appearing  to  be  regulated 
by  no  fixed  principles  ;  no  labour,  no  discretion,  no 
character,  affording  any  assurance  of  prosperity ;  but 
circumstances  over  which  the  sagacity  of  man  could 
have  no  control,  in  innumerable  instances,  and  at  times 
in  a  manner  the  most  marvellous  and  confounding, 
crossing  the  path,  arresting  the  progress,  and  frustrat- 
ing  the  purposes  and  hopes,  of  those  who  bade  fairest 
for  success;  and  giving  that  success  to  others,  to  whom 
no  one  supposed  it  possible,  and  who  hardly,  even  in 
self-flattery,  expected  it  themselves.  All  was  wonder 
and  perplexity, — beyond  the  penetration  of  the  most 
profound  observer,  though  applying  to  the  subject  the 
closest  and  most  unwearied  attention.  '"^  Though  a  man 
labour  to  seek  (it)  out,  yet  he  shall  not  find  (it ;)  yea, 
further,  though  a  wise  (man)  think  to  know  (it,)  yet 


390  LECTURE  XVI. 

shall  he  not  be  able  to  find  (it)."  To  every  view  he  can 
take  of  "  the  work  of  God," — to  every  hypothesis  he 
can  frame  with  regard  to  the  principle  of  his  providen- 
tial government,  difficulties  present  themselves,  and 
exceptions  and  anomalies,  which  he  cannot  explain. 
The  hypothesis  that  accounts  satisfactorily  for  one 
event,  seems  to  be  contradicted  by  another ;  circum- 
stances which  to  him  appear  to  be  similar,  and  to  war- 
rant similar  expectations,  terminating,  not  unfrequently, 
in  opposite  results ;  and  on  the  contrary,  trains  of  events, 
and  courses  of  conduct  the  most  unlike  each  other,  some- 
times conducting  to  the  same  issues  ;  to  riches,  or  to 
poverty, — to  honour,  or  to  shame. — That  it  is  to  the 
mystery  of  providence,  in  its  superintendence  over  the 
affairs  of  men,  over  "  all  the  business  that  is  done  under 
the  sun,"  that  Solomon  refers,  will  be  very  evident 
when  we  come  to  show,  in  next  lecture,  the  connec- 
tion between  the  end  of  this  chapter  and  the  begin- 
ning of  the  ninth  ;  and  the  manner  in  which  he  there 
exemplifies  and  illustrates  the  sentiment  he  had  here 
expressed. 

In  the  mean  time,  observe,  in  thejirst  place^  from 
the  verses  that  have  now  been  expounded  : — There  are 
instances,  in  which  the  possession  of  power,  authority, 
and  dominion,  dazzling  as  it  may  be  to  the  imagination, 
is  yet  more  to  ht  pitied  than  envied. — It  is  so,  surely, 
when  a  man  "  rules  over  others  to  his  own  hurt :"  and 
every  man  thus  rules,  who  perverts  and  abuses  his 
power  to  the  purposes  of  oppression  and  selfishness. 
The  splendour  of  such  power  can  be  admired  by  fools 
alone.  It  is  the  splendour  of  a  consuming  fire,  at  which 
children  may  laugh  and  clap  their  hands  with  delight, 
reckless  of  the  mischief  it  is  spreading  around,  but 
which  more  thoughtful  spectators  will  contemplate  with 


ECCLES.  VIII.  9 — 17.  391 

grief  and  horror.  The  fire  will  at  length  devour  hitn 
who  has  kindled  it,  and  who  exulted  in  its  devastations. 
Perverted  povver  will  come  back,  with  fearful  recoil, 
upon  its  unprincipled  perverter.  Whatever  may  be  its 
present  effects  to  the  cruel  oppressor,  or  the  vain-glori- 
ous ruler,  it  must,  in  the  end,  be  "  to  his  own  hurt," 
when  "  the  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords,"  the  Sove- 
reign Judge  of  all,  shall  call  him  to  his  reckoning. — 
This  shall  be  found  especially  true  of  the  persecuting 
powers  of  this  world,  who  have  directed  their  violence 
against  the  church  of  God,  and  by  sanguinary  edicts, 
by  bonds  and  imprisonments,  by  swords,  and  racks, 
and  flames,  have  sought  its  extermination.  The  perse- 
cuted have  been  the  compassionated  party.  They  still 
are,  when  their  sufFcfings  are  read  in  history.  Yet  the 
persecutors  are  infinitely  more  to  be  pitied  than  they. 
From  the  beginning  until  now,  the  voice  of  the  blood 
which  they  have  shed  has  *'  cried  against  them  from 
the  ground,"  and  has  "  entered  into  the  ears  of  the  Lord 
of  Sabaoth."  The  retributive  justice  of  God  has  many 
a  time,  even  in  this  world,  given  them  blood  to  drink ; 
in  the  cup  which  they  have  filled,  filling  to  them  dou- 
ble: and  "  true  and  righteous  have  been  his  judgments." 
And,  oh  !  should  they  escape  his  vengeance  here,  what 
an  account  have  they  to  give  to  Him  who  hath  said  of 
his  people,  the  objects  of  his  love,  "  He  that  toucheth 
you,  toucheth  the  apple  of  his  eye!"*  The  victims  of 
their  fury  they  have  "  chased  up  to  heaven  ;"  whilst  for 
themselves,  it  will  be  found,  they  have  been  preparing 
a  place  in  hell.  Envy  not,  then,  such  povver.  Prefer 
being  its  victim  to  being  its  possessor.  Be  burned  at 
the  stake,  rather  than  kindle  it.  "  The  memory  of  the 
just  is  blessed,  but  the  name  of  the  wicked  shall  rot." 

*  Zcch.  ii.  8. 


39S  LECTURE  XVI. 

And  how  unenviable  is  the  man,  who  on  earth  is  exe- 
crated while  remembered,  and  as  soon  as  possible  is 
forgotten,  and  whose  crimes  are  registered  in  heaven, 
and  kept  from  oblivion,  there,  to  cover*  him  in  the  end 
with  "  shame  and  everlasting  contempt  ?" 

Secondly  .-—We  have  been  considering  the  delay  of 
punishment,  the  patience  and  forbearance  of  God  ;  and 
we  have  illustrated  a  little  the  effect  of  this  on  human 
depravity, — the  use  that  men  actually  make  of  it,  as  an 
encouragement  to  boldness  in  sin.  Let  mc  press  a  little 
upon  your  attention  its  proper  and  legitimate  effect,: — 
the  use  that  men  ought  to  make  of  it. 
'  Instead  of  lulling  in  security,  it  ought  to  alarm  ;— 
instead  of  emboldening  to  sin,  it  should  melt  to  peni- 
tential sorrow. 

In  the  first  place  :— instead  of  lulling  in  security,  it 
ought  to  alarm. — To  make  good  this  observation,  I  shall 
endeavour  to  show  you,  that  the  Divine  forbearance  and 
long-suffering,  so  far  from  being  a  proof  that  God  thinks 
lightly  of  sin,  affords  convincing  and  impressive  evi- 
dence of  the  con,trary. 

1.— First  of  all,  we  should  recollect  that  by  the  pa- 
tience of  God  there  is  no  alteration  produced  in  the  na- 
ture of  sin.  There  is  in  sin  itself  an  intrinsic  malignity 
that  remains  immutably  the  same.  There  is  in  it  a  con- 
trariety to  the  holiness,  an  opposition  to  the  authority, 
an  ingratitude  for  the  unparalleled  kindness,  and  an 
affront  to  the  sacred  majesty,  of  the  infinite  God, — as 
well  as  a  universal  wrong  done  by  it  to  creation,  whose 
happiness  it  tends  to  destroy,— that  must  render  it,  in 
all  its  kinds  and  in  all  its  degrees,  in  all  places  and  at 
all  times,  hateful  in  his  sight.  It  is  in  the  nature  of  things 
impossible,  that  He  should  ever  look  upon  it  with  in- 
difTerence.     This  should  be  a  settled  conviction  in  all 


ECGLES.  VIII.  9 17.  393 

our  minds,  and  every  thing  that  may  seem  opposed  to 
it,  we  should  rest  perfectly  assured,  has  nothing  of  in- 
consistency but  the  appearance. 

2. — It  does  not  at  all  follow  that  the  provocation  of 
Deity  is  small,  because  he  does  not  m^tantly  express 
it  in  action.  His  anger  is  not  like  that  of  his  creatures. 
Men,  when  provoked  by  any  injury  done  to  them,  are 
ready  to  kindle  immediately  into  a  transport  of  passion, 
and  to  indulge  their  resentment  in  word  and  in  deed. 
But  God  is  infinitely  above  being  affected  in  this  man- 
ner. He  punishes  sin,  not  from  passion  at  the  harm  he 
sustains  ;— (for  "  if  thou  sinnest,  what  doest  thou  against 
him  ?  or  if  thy  transgressions  be  multiplied,  what  doest 
thou  unto  him  ?") — but  because  it  is  right  and  neces- 
sary that  sin  should  be  punished.  With  a  composure 
undisturbed  by  the  swellings  and  out-breakings  of  hu- 
man pride  and  impiety,  unmoved  by  the  scornful  taunts, 
and  bitter  blasphemies,  and  daring  outrages  of  the  un- 
godly, he  fixes  his  own  time  for  "  bringing  it  into  judg- 
ment." That  time  may  be  distant.  But  O  beware  of 
fancying,  because  the  execution  of  his  anger  is  not  im- 
mediate, the  anger  itself  cannot  be  severe  :  for 

3. — It  is  an  evidence  that  it  is  severe,  and  that  the 
expression  of  it  at  last  will  be  the  more  aggravated. — 
What  think  you,  is  the  rec/ reason  why  God  suspends 
the  execution  of  his  sentence,  and  "  bears  long"  with 
the  condemned  offender  ?  Hear  Himself,  in  answer  to 
the  question  :— "  Say  unto  them.  As  I  live,  saith  the 
Lord  God,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wick- 
ed, but  rather  that  the  wicked  turn  unto  me,  and  live  : 
turn  ye,  turn  ye ;  for  why  will  ye  die,  O  house  of  Israel  ?" 
— Now,  why  this  solemnity  of  asseveration  !^— why  this 
tenderness  of  persuasion  ? — why  this  energy  of  expos- 
tulation and  entreaty  ?— why  does  he  lift  up  his  hand 
3  D 


;J94!  LECTURE  XVI. 

to  heaven,  and  add  his  oath  to  his  word  ?  Surely  the 
death  that  the  sinner  must  die  can  be  no  light  or  trivial 
evil,  when  the  God  of  mercy  and  truth  is  thus  in  ear- 
nest in  warning  him  against  it.  Wtiy  does  He  spare 
his  offending  creatures  from  day  to  day  ?  Is  it  that  he 
has  pleasure  in  sin,  or  complacency  in  sinners  ?  No. 
The  reason  is,  that  he  knows  the  full  measure  of  the 
sinfulness  of  sin,  and  knows  the  fearful  nature  of  its 
eternal  consequences.  He  waits  to  be  gracious.  He 
warns,  he  threatens,  he  entreats,  by  his  word,  and  by  his 
providence  ;  and  his  warnings,  and  threatenings,  and 
entreaties,  are  all  of  them  the  utterance  of  mercy.  Like 
a  parent,  when  he  has  denounced  a  severe  but  deserved 
punishment ;  a  punishment  that  must  be  executed,  if 
there  is  not  repentance,  humiliation,  and  confession  :— in 
proportion  to  its  severity,  he  lingers  to  inflict  it;  he  tries 
every  method  he  can  think  of,  to  gain  his  end  without 
proceeding  to  extremities, — for  "  his  bowels  yearn  over 
his  son."  If  we  saw  a  parent  thus  delaying  the  stroke  ; 
exhausting  all  the  arts  of  authority  and  love  ;  his  heart 
wrung  with  anguish,  and  still  failing  him  when  the  mo- 
ment of  infliction  approaches  ; — we  should  conclude, 
that  the  punishment  thus  suspended  must  be  a  heavy 
one.  The  same  is  the  inference  which  men  should  draw 
from  the  long-suffering  of  God. 

4, — Delay  amongst  men  may  lessen  certainty,  leav- 
ing room  for  escape,  and  for  the  loss  of  opportunity 
and  ability  to  effect  their  threatenings.— But  it  cannot 
be  so  with  God.  We  have  seen  how  strongly  this 
is  afliirmed  in  the  verses  we  have  been  expounding. 
*'  Though  the  sinner  do  evil  a  hundred  times,  and  his 
days  be  prolonged,— yet  surely  it  shall  not  be  well  with 
him."  "  His  judgment  lingereth  not ;  his  damnation 
slumbereth  not."  "  One  day  is  with  the  Lord  as  a  thou- 


ECCLES.  VIIT.   9 17.  395 

sand  years,  and  a  thousand  years  as  one  day."  And 
when  sinners  flcitter  themselves  with  their  own  delusions, 
and  "  say  in  their  hearts,  God  will  not  require  it,"  their 
destruction,  from  being  thus  unanticipated,  will  only 
come  upon  them  with  the  more  overwhelming  violence: 
— '*  When  they  shall  say,  peace  and  safety,  then  sud- 
den destruction  cometh  upon  them,  as  travail  upon  a 
woman  with  child,  and  they  shall  not  escape." 

5. — In  the  very  perversion  and  abuse  itself  of  Divine 
forbearance,  there  is  a  fearful  aggravation  of  criminality, 
which  will  be  added  to  the  guilt  of  every  sin  to  which 
it  has  afforded  encouragement,  and  will  form  a  heavy 
addition  to  the  general  grounds  of  condemnation.  Mark 
how  the  inspired  apostle  speaks  of  it.  The  disregard  of 
God's  goodness  and  long-suffering,  is,  according  to 
him,  nothing  less,  than  a  "  treasuring  up  of  wrath, 
against  the  day  of  wrath,  and  revelation  of  the  righ- 
teous judgment  of  God."* 

Let  the  patience  of  God,  then,  alarm  you,  "  ye  care- 
less ones,"  instead  of  flattering  and  deceiving  you. 
*'  Set  not  your  hearts  in  you  to  do  evil ;"  but  rather 
*'  cease  to  do  evil,  and  learn  to  do  well." 

I  noticed,  as  a  second  legitimate  effect  of  the  suspen- 
sion of  vengeance,  that  it  ought  to  melt  you  to  peniten- 
tial sorrow. — An  act  of  unexpected  clemency  has  some- 
times,  in  human  experience,  had  the  effect  of  softening 
a  heart,  which  all  the  terrors  of  judicial  severity  had 
been  unable  to  move. — Let  sinners,  then,  consider  the 
following  things  : — 

1. — ^God  has  no  personal  interest  to  serve,  in  sparing 
you. — A  judge  amongst  men,  after  he  has  pronounced 
the  sentence,  may  be  afraid  to  inflict  the  punishment. 
The  prisoner  may  be  in  circumstances  that  render  it 

*  Kom.  li.  5. 


398  LECTURE  XVI. 

hazardous  :  or  the  judge  may  expect  some  advantage 
to  himself  from  his  lenity.  But  with  God  there  can  be 
neither  the  fear  of  evil,  nor  the  hope  of  good,  from  his 
offending  creatures.  In  proportion  as  a  criminal  per- 
ceives that  theclemency  of  his  judge  is  either  extorted  by 
dread  of  consequences,  or  even  by  considerations  of  in- 
terest, it  will  fail  to  have  upon  him  any  subduing  or 
melting  influence  :  it  will  only  inspire  contempt.  But, 
as  the  Supreme  Judge  is  infinitely  independent  of 
his  creatures,  as  his  acts  of  clemency  and  of  sparing 
mercy  are  entirely  disinterested,— in  no  respect  for  his 
own,  but  all  for  the  poor  offender's  sake  ;  ought  not  his 
patient  forbearance  to  melt  the  sinner  to  contrition,  in- 
stead  of  hardening  him  in  rebellion  ? — Say  not,  your 
continued  transgression  can  do  him  tw  harm.  It  is  most 
true.  The  infinite  God  sustain  damage  from  a  creature! 
or  be  ultimately  bereft  of  the  smallest  portion  of  his 
glory  by  a  creature  !  It  were  blasphemy  to  suppose  it. 
That  is  a  gratification  which  neither  the  malignity  of 
earth  or  hell  can  ever  obtain.  *'  If  thou  sinnest,  what 
doest  thou  against  him?  or  (if)  thy  transgressions  be 
multiplied,  what  doest  thou  unto  him  ?  If  thou  be  righ- 
teous, what  givest  thou  him  ?  or  what  recciveth  he  of 
thy  hand?  Thy  wickedness  (may  hurt)  a  man  as  thou 
art ;  and  thy  righteousness  (may  profit)  the  son  of  man." 
But  ought  not  this  very  independence  of  Deity  to  con- 
vince you,  that  it  is  for  your  own  sakes  alone  that  he 
exercises  towards  you  his  forbearing  clemency  ?  And 
should  not  this  give  an  overcoming  power  to  his  warn- 
ings, as  the  dictates  of  compassionate  kindness  ? 

2. — God  is  under  720  obligation  to  spare  you  ; — no, 
not  for  a  moment.  He  might  in  justice  now  cut  you 
off;  and  he  might  have  done  it  long  since,  and  have 
consigned  you  to  merited  perdition.    And  \\hi\\.  justice 


ECCLES.  viir.  9 — 17.  397 

might  have  done,  he  has  never  wanted  power  to  do. 
You  are  not  spared  because  he  cannot  destroy  you.  He 
could,  in  one  moment  of  time,  sweep  ofF  into  irreme- 
diable destruction  every  individual  of  his  sinning  crea- 
tures, and  give  existence  to  a  new  and  better  race,  who 
should  love,  and  fear,  and  serve,  and  honour  him.  But 
instead  of  this,  he  is  pleased  to  call  sinners  to  repen- 
tance, to  invite  them  back  to  himself,  to  hold  out  to 
them,  through  the  mediation  of  his  Son,  the  sceptre  of 
mercy,  and  to  give  them  time  to  hear  his  voice,  and  to 
turn  from  their  ways  and  live.   O  think,  then, 

3. — JVhat  base  ingratitude  there  is,  in  abusing  this 
wonderful,  this  unmerited,  this  free  and  disinterested 
kindness  of  God. — Nay,  ingratitude  is  too  gentle  a 
term.  There  is  not  a  word  in  language  sufficiently 
strong  to  express  the  hellish  malignity  of  such  conduct, 
or  to  convey  any  adequate  idea  of  its  inexpressible 
odiousness. — What  would  you  think  of  the  man,  who 
should  derive  encouragement  from  the  very  kindness 
of  a  benefactor,  to  neglect  him  and  to  do  him  injury? 
— What  do  you  think  of  the  unnatural  child,  whom  the 
very  tenderness  of  his  father  encourages  to  disobey  and 
insult  him  ?  Yet  this  is  what  sinners  do,  when,  from  the 
merciful  suspension  of  punishment,  their  "  hearts  are 
set  in  them  to  do  evil :"  only  that  the  obligations  which 
they  violate  are  infinitely  higher.  God  is  good  and  kind 
to  them  amidst  all  their  rebellions :  he  sustains  Q^vQvy 
moment  the  life  which  they  are  employing  against  him- 
self. Yet  instead  of  the  thought  of  his  goodness  break- 
ing and  changing  their  hearts,  the  very  experience  they 
have  had  of  it,  and  the  hope  of  its  continuance,  are  the 
considerations  which  cheer  tiiem  on  in  their  career  of 
ungodliness.  What  think  you  of  this  ?— of  trying  the 
patience   of  God   further,  because  wc  have  found  it  to 


398  LECTURE  XVr. 

be  great!— of  sinning  against  him  with  a  high  hand, 
because  we  know  him  to  be  "  slow  to  anger  !"— of  blas- 
pheming and  insulting  him,  because  he  does  not  in- 
stantly revenge  the  insult  and  the  blasphemy  ! — of  har- 
dening our  spirits  in  impious  opposition,  on  account  of 
that  very  mercy  which  ought  to  soften,  and  conciliate, 
and  subdue  them! — of  persisting  to  trample  on  his  au- 
thority and  laws,  because  he  himself  has  assured  us,  that 
he  is  ready  to  forgive  !— O,  my  friends,  how  unnatural, 
how  monstrous  is  this !  Surely  the  very  thought,  that 
you  should  have  been  guilty  of  any  thing  even  ap- 
proaching to  it,  should  wring  your  hearts  with  the  bit- 
terness of  shame  and  grief,  should  bring  you  to  his 
feet  in  tears  of  penitential  sorrow,  and  constrain  you  to 
give  yourselves  up  henceforth  to  him  from  whom  you 
have  revolted,  and  with  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  to  serve 
him, — "  redeeming  the  time." 

Let  me  conclude  with  a  single  word  of  admonition 
to  Christians:— and  it  shall  be  conveyed  in  the  language 
of  their  Lord  himself.  It  is,  to  beware  of  the  tempta- 
lion  which  even  to  them  the  seeming  delay  of  judg- 
ment presents; — a  temptation  to  forgetfulneafej  to  unbe- 
lief, to  negligence,  and  to  apostasy  : — ^'  Watch,  there- 
fore ;  for  ye  know  not  what  hour  your  Lord  doth  come. 
But  know  this,  that  if  the  good  man  of  the  house  had 
known  in  what  watch  the  thief  would  come,  he  would 
have  watched,  and  would  not  have  suffered  his  house 
to  be  broken  up.  Therefore  be  ye  also  ready  :  for  in 
such  an  hour  as  ye  think  not  the  Son  of  man  cometh. 
Who  then  is  a  faithful  and  wise  servant,  whom  his 
lord  hath  made  ruler  over  his  household,  to  give  them 
meat  in  due  season  ?  Blessed  (is)  that  servant  whom 
his  lord,  when  he  cometh,  shall  find  so  doing.  Verily 
I  say  unto  you,  That  he  shall  make  him  ruler  over  all 


r.ccLEs.  VIII.  9 — 17.  399 

his  goods.  But  and  if  that  evil  servant  shall  say  in  his 
heart,  My  lord  delayeth  his  coming;  and  shall  begin  to 
smile  (his)  fellow-servants,  and  to  eat  and  drink  with 
the  drunken ;  the  lord  of  that  servant  shall  come  in  a 
day  when  he  looketh  not  for  (him,)  and  in  an  hour  that 
he  is  not  aware  of,  and  shall  cut  him  asunder,  and  ap- 
point (him)  his  portion  with  the  hypocrites:  there  shall 
be  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth."* 

*  Matt.  xxiv.  42—51, 


LECTURE  XVII, 


EccLEs.  ix.  1 — 10. 

1  "  For  all  this  I  considered  in  my  heart,  even  to  declare  ell  this,  thai 
the  righteous  and  the  wise,  and  their  works,  fare  J  in  the  hand  of 
God  :  no  man  knoweth  either  lox'e  or  hatred  ( by )  all  (that  is  J  be- 

1  fore  them.  All  f  things  come)  alike  to  all :  (there  is)  one  event  to 
the  righteous  and  to  the  wicked  ;  to  the  good,  and  to  the  clean,  and  to 
the  unclean  ;  to  him  that  sacrifceth,  and  to  him  that  sacrifceth  not  : 
as  (is)  the  good,  so  (is)  the  sinner  ;  (and J  he  that  sweareth,  as 

3  (he J  that  fcareth  an  oath.  This  (is)  an  evil  among  all  (things) 
that  are  dojie  under  the  sun,  that  (there  is  J  one  event  unto  all :  yea, 
also,  the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  full  of  evil,  arid  madness  (is  J 
in  their  heart  while  they  live,  and  after  that  (they  go)  to  the  dead. 

4  For  to  him  that  is  joined  to  all  the  living  there  is  hofie :  for  a  living 

5  dog  is  better  than  a  dead  lion.  For  the  living  know  that  they  shall 
die:  but  the  dead  know  not  any  thing,  neither  have  they  any  more 

6  a  reward  ;  for  the  memory  of  them  is  forgotten.  Also  their  love,  and 
their  hatred,  and  their  envy,  is  now  perished ;  neither  have  they  any 
more  a  portion  for  ever  in  any  (thing)  that  is  done  under  the  sun, 

7  Go  thy  way,  eat  thy  bread  with  joy,  and  drink  thy  wine  with  a 

8  merry  heart ;  for  God  now  accefiteth  thy  works.   Let  thy  garments 

9  be  always  white  ;  and  let  thy  head  lack  no  ointment.  Live  joyfully 
with  the  wife  whom  thou  lovest  all  the  days  of  the  life  of  thy  vanity, 
which  he  hath  given  thee  under  the  sun,  all  the  days  of  thy  vanity  : 

for  that  (is J  thy  portion  in  (this)  life,  and  in  thy  labour  which  thou 
10  takest  under  the  sun.     Whatsoever  thy  hand  fndeth  to  do,  do  (it) 
with  thy  might :  for  (there  is)  no  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge, 
nor  wisdom,  in  the  grave,  whither  thou  goest." 


In  the  close  of  the  former  chapter,  vve  found  Solomon 
declaring  the  unsearchableness  of  "  the  work  of  God," 
or  the  conduct  of  his  providence  toward  the  children  of 
men,  even  by  the  penetration  of  the  acutest  and  most 
experienced  minds.  This  he  confirms  by  a  reference  to 


ECCLES.  IX.   1 10.  101 

his  own  want  of  success  in  all  his  endeavours  to  fathom 
the  mystery ;  although  he  was  one  to  whom  God  had 
given  "  wisdom  and  understanding,  and  largeness  of 
heart,  even  as  the  sand  on  the  sea-shore."  He  was 
earnestly  desirous  to  have  understood  and  explained  it; 
but  after  "  considering  in  his  heart"  for  this  purpose, 
all  that  he  could  with  certainty  declare  was,  the  exis- 
tence of  the  fact,  and  the  necessity  of  leaving  all,  with 
believing  submission,  in  the  hand  of  God  :-— "  For  all 
this  1  considered  in  my  heart,  even  to  declare  all  this, 
—that  the  righteous  and  the  wise,  and  their  works, 
(are)  in  the  hand  of  God;"— in  the  hand  of  Him  who 
is  infinitely  just,  infinitely  wise,  and  infinitely  good. 
Though  his  providence  does  present  a  mystery  to  our 
limited  fiiculties,  yet  he  is  not  forgetful  of  those  who 
fear  him.  They  and  their  works  are  neither  unknown, 
nor  unregarded  :  and  he  will  one  day  make  it  fully  ma- 
nifest, that  his  whole  procedure  has  perfectly  accorded 
with  his  character,  as  ''  the  righteous  Lord  who  loveth 
righteousness,  and  whose  countenance  beholdeth  the 
upright."  They  themselves  are  under  his  special  and 
unremitting  care  :— his  eye  is  ever  upon  them ;  his  ear 
is  open  to  their  cry :  and  "  their  works"  are  remem- 
bered by  him  for  good.  «'  They  that' feared  the  Lord 
spake  often  one  to  another;  and  the  Lord  hearkened 
and  heard ;  and  a  book  of  remembrance  was  written 
before  him,  for  them  that  feared  the  Lord,  and  that 
thought  upon  his  name.  And  they  shall  be  mine,  saith 
the  Lord  of  hosts,  in  that  day  when  I  make  up  my 
jewels ;  and  I  will  spare  them,  as  a  man  spareth  his 
own  son  that  serveth  him.  Then  shall  ye  return,  and 
discern  between  the  righteous  and  the  wicked;  be- 
tween  him  that  serveth  God,  and  him  that  serveth  him 
not."* 

*  Mai.  iii.  16—18. 

3E 


4(^a  LECTURE  XVII. 

But,  however  confident  we  may  be  of  this  distinctiors 
being  ever  present  to  the  Divine  mind,  yet,  in  the  gene- 
ral administration  of  Providence  in  the  distribution  of 
temporal  good  and  evil,  it  often  seems  as  if  it  were  for- 
gotten ;  so  that,  as  it  is  here  expressed,  "  no  man 
knoweth  either  love  or  hatred  (by)  all  (that  is)  before 
them."  As  there  is  no  description  or  degree  of  tempo- 
ral prosperity  with  which  wicked  men  are  not  favoured, 
and  hardly  any  kind  or  measure  of  adversity  to  which 
good  men  are  not  at  times  subjected,  no  man  can  dis- 
cover, from  his  external  condition  merely,  the  state  of 
the  Divine  affection  towards  him,  whether  he  be  an  ob- 
ject of  the  love  of  God,  or  of  the  contrary ;  the  good 
and  the  evil  of  life  coming  alternately  in  the  lot  of  all, 
— the  gourd  of  earthly  comfort  flourishing  one  day  and 
blasted  the  next,  in  the  experience  of  men  of  every  de- 
scription of  character.— This  sentiment  is  more  fully- 
brought  out,  in 

Verse  2.  "  All  (things  come)  alike  to  all ;  (there  is) 
one  event  to  the  righteous,  and  to  the  wicked ;  to  the 
good,  and  to  the  clean,  and  to  the  unclean ;  to  him  that 
sacrificeth,  and  to  him  that  sacrificeth  not :  as  (is)  the 
good,  so  (is)  the  sinner ;  (and)  he  that  sweareth,  as  (he) 
that  feareth  an  oath." 

"The  c/<?aw,"  are  evidently  those  who  were  not 
merely  attentive  fo  keep  themselves  free  from  ceremo- 
nial pollution,  but  who  were  *'  pure  in  heart,"  renewed 
and  sanctified  in  the  spirit  of  their  minds;  and  "  the  un^ 
clean,''^  those  who  were  destitute  of  this  inward  purity, 
and  who  might,  at  the  same  time,  show  their  disregard 
of  God,  by  carelessness  about  the  contraction  or  the 
removal  of  legal  defilement.— By  "  him  who  sacrificeth, 
and  him  who  sacrificeth  not,"  we  understand,  the  man, 
on  the  one  hand,  who  is  conscientious  and  regular  in 


ECCLES.  IX.   1 10.  403 

the  discharge  of  religious  duties,  and,  on  the  other,  the 
man  who  entirely  neglects  them,  and  lives  "  without 
God  in  the  world;" — the  pious  worshipper,  and  the 
atheistical  despiser  of  all  devotion. — *'  (There  is)  one 
event,"  says  Solomon,  to  these  opposite  characters : — 
one  event,  in  life;  "all  (things),"  with  regard  to  the 
measure  of  prosperity  and  adversity,  of  the  cares  and 
joys,  the  hopes  and  fears,  the  gratifications  and  disap- 
pointments of  life,  "coming  alike  to  all :"— one  event 
m  death ,— not  indeed  as  to  its  solemn  and  eternal  con- 
sequences, nor  even  as  to  the  state  of  mind  with  which 
its  approach  is  anticipated,  and  its  arrival  met ;  but  as  to 
all  the  external  circumstances  and  corporeal  effects  of 
it;  no  distemper  coming  upon  the  wicked  (with  the 
exception  indeed  of  those  which  are  the  immediate  pro- 
duct of  particular  vices)  to  which  the  righteous  are  not 
also  liable  ;  no  degree  of  pain  or  of  any  attendant  evils 
afflicting  the  one,  which  may  not  likewise  distress  the 
other ;  and  no  loathsome  taint  of  corruption  invading 
the  body  of  the  one,  that  does  not  equally  prey  upon 
and  consume  that  of  the  other.— In  these  respects,  "  as 
is  the  good,  so  is  the  sinner,  and  he  that  sweareth,  as 
(he)  that  feareth  an  oath." — "Swearing,"  being  here 
opposed  to  "  fearing  an  oath,"  must  of  course  mean 
swearing  lightly  and  falsely  ;  and  "  fearing  an  oath"  is 
taking  it  with  solemnity,  and  keeping  it  with  fidelity, 
under  a  deep  impression  of  the  evil  of  profaning  the 
great  and  dreadful  name  to  which  the  appeal  is  made. 
In  such  a  connection,  the  fear  of  an  oath  is  the  fear  of 
God :  "  Thou  shalt  fear  the  Lord  thy  God;  him  shalt 
thou  serve,  and  to  him  shalt  thou  cleave,  and  swear  by 
his  Name:'* 

Such  being  the  state  of  the  fact,  as  to  the  providen- 

*  Deut.  X.  20. 


404<  LECTURE  XVII. 

tial  allotments  of  temporal  good  and  evil,  the  observa- 
tion of  it  has  at  times  proved  a  strong  and  distressing 
temptation  to  the  children  of  God,  to  doubt  and  ques- 
tion the  reality  of  his  superintendence  over  the  affairs 
of  men.  Such  a  state  of  temptation  Asaph  affectingly 
describes  in  the  seventy-third  Psalm.  His  "  feet  were 
almost  gone,"  his  '*  steps  had  well  nigh  slipped  :"  for 
he  was  "  envious  at  the  foolish,  (when)  he  saw  the 
prosperity  of  the  wicked."  He  had  not  merely  observed 
an  indiscriminate  mixture  in  the  lot  of  good  and  evil 
men,  but  in  some  instances  which  had  come  particu- 
larly under  his  notice,  there  was  a  great  preponderance 
of  prosperity  on  the  side  of  the  latter.  Theirs  was  a 
cup  of  rich  and  almost  unmingled  sweetness,  whilst  a 
full  cup  of  bitterness  was  *'  wrung  out"  for  the  other. 
And  over  these  unaccountable  anomalies,  as  they 
seemed  to  him  to  be,  he  brooded  in  agonizing  per- 
plexity of  spirit,  till  his  mind  was  giving  way  to  scep- 
ticism, and  drawing  to  the  very  borders  of  apostasy  and 
atheism.  He  said,  "  How  doth  God  know  ?  and  is  there 
knowledge  in  the  most  High?" — The  prophet  Jere- 
miah, if  not  tempted  as  Asaph  was,  yet  expresses  a 
similar  feeling  of  difficulty  and  wonder  : — "  Righteous 
(art)  thou,  O  Lord,  when  I  plead  with  thee ;  (yet)  let 
me  talk  with  thee  of  (thy)  judgments :  Wherefore  doth 
the  way  of  the  wicked  prosper?  (wherefore)  are  all  they 
happy  that  deal  very  treacherously  ?  Thou  hast  planted 
them  ;  yea,  they  have  taken  root :  they  grow ;  yea,  they 
bring  forth  fruit :  thou  (art)  near  in  their  mouth,  and 
far  from  their  reins."* 

Whilst  the  Divine  procedure  has  thus  perplexed  and 
tempted  the  minds  of  God's  people,  it  has,  on  the  con- 
trary, been  abused  by  his  enemies  as  an  encourage- 

*  .Ter.  xii.  1,  2, 


ECCLES.  IX.  1 10.  405 

ment  to  perseverance  in  sin.  "  They  say  unto  God," 
in  the  midst  of  their  prosperity,  "  Depart  from  us,  for 
we  desire  not  the  knowledge  of  thy  ways.  What  (is) 
the  Almighty,  that  we  should  serve  him  ?  and  what 
profit  should  we  have  if  we  pray  unto  him  ?"* 

This  appears  to  be  the  sentiment  expressed  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  following  verse  : 

Verse  3.  *'  This  (is)  an  evil,  among  all  (things)  that 
are  done  under  the  sun,  that  (there  is)  one  event  unto 
all :  yea,  also  the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  (is)  full  of 
evil,  and  madness  (is)  in  their  heart  while  they  live  ; 
and  after  that  (they  go)  to  the  dead." 

The  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  by  nature  full  of  evil. 
Jt  is  "enmity  against  God."  Its  *' imaginations  are 
only  evil  continually."  It  is  *'  deceitful  above  all  things, 
and  desperately  wicked."  Out  of  it  "proceed  evil 
thoughts,  adulteries,  fornications,  murders,  thefts,  co- 
vetousness,  wickedness,  deceit,  lasciviousness,  an  evil 
eye,  blasphemy,  pride,  foolishness."  That  must  be 
a  fearfully  polluted  fountain  from  which  there  flow 
so  many  foul  and  tainted  streams. — Natural  conscience, 
though  partaking  of  the  corruption  of  the  fall,  and  very 
deficient  and  partial,  very  treacherous  and  false,  in  the 
discharge  of  its  function,  has  yet  an  effect  far  from  in- 
considerable, along  with  the  apprehension  of  punish- 
ment which  it  inspires,  in  restraining  from  the  commis- 
sion of  iniquity,  even  men  who  have  no  true  fear  of 
God  before  their  eyes.  But  prosperity  in  sin  tends  to 
dissolve  even  this  restraint ;  it  hardens  the  heart,  it  sti- 
fles the  voice  of  conscience,  it  silences  the  suggestions 
of  fear,  and  drives  a  man  on  to  a  frantic  wildness  in  the 
gratification  of  his  passions  and  desires : — "  madness 
is  in  their  heart  while  they  live." 

*  Job  xxi.  14,  15.  with  the  preceding  context. 


406  LECTURE  XVII. 

Every  act  of  sin,  being  an  act  of  rebellion  against  the 
infinite  God,  is  an  act  of  madness ;  of  infatuated,  and 
impotent,  and  self-destroying  phrenzy : — for  *' who 
hath  hardened  himself  against  him,  and"  finally  "pros- 
pered ?" — All  worldliness  of  spirit,  being  a  preference, 
in  affection  and  pursuit,  of  temporal  to  eternal  things, 
is  madness ;  far  beyond  the  derangement  of  the  maniac 
who  throws  away  gold  for  stones,  and  prefers  straws  to 
pearls  and  jewels.  But  the  expression  "  madness  is  in 
their  heart,"  appears  from  the  connection  rather  to 
mean  that  wild  and  unthinking  boldness,  that  forward- 
ness, and  hardihood,  and  licentious  extravagance  in  sin, 
which  arises  from  a  course  of  prosperity  in  it,  and  from 
the  seeming  distance  of  the  evil  day.  "  The  wicked, 
through  the  pride  of  his  countenance,  will  not  seek 
(after  God  :)  God  is  not  in  all  his  thoughts.  His  ways 
are  always  grievous  ;  thy  judgments  (are;  far  above  out 
of  his  sight :  (as  for)  all  his  enemies,  he  pufFeth  at  them. 
He  hath  said  in  his  heart,  1  shall  not  be  moved  ;  for  (I 
shall)  never  (be)  in  adversity."* — *'  How  much  she 
hath  glorified  herself  and  lived  deliciously,  so  much 
torment  and  sorrow  give  her :  for  she  saith  in  her  heart, 
I  sit  a  queen,  and  am  no  widow,  and  shall  see  no 
sorrow."! 

How  awful  is  the  thought !— "  madness  is  in  their 
heart  while  they  live.^^  Intoxicated  by  success  in  sin, 
they  persist  in  it  to  the  last ;  casting  oft'  the  fear  of  God, 
and  *' mad  upon  their  idols  :"— and  then— "after  that 
they  go  to  the  dead !"  "  The  dust  returns  to  the  earth 
as  it  was,  and  the  spirit  to  God  who  gave  it :" — or  ra- 
ther, while  their  bodies  are  laid  in  the  grave,  to  be  food 
for  the  worm  of  corruption,  their  souls  depart  to  the 
^'  place  of  torment,"  to  join  the  *'  spirits  in  prison," 

*  Psal.  X,  4—6.  t  Rev.  xviii,  7. 


ECCLES.  IX.  1 10.  407 

even  all  the  wicked  dead  who  had  left  the  world  before 
them  ! — Such  is  their  melancholy  end ;  and  then  all  is 
over  with  them  ;— settled  for  ever ;— their  time  of 
mercy  gone  :— they  are  beyond  the  reach  of  hope  : 

Verse  4.  "  For  to  him  that  is  joined  to  all  the  living 
there  is  hope :"  either,  hope  in  adverse  times  of  better 
days  to  come ;  or  rather,  as  the  connection  intimates, 
hope  with  respect  to  his  future  state, — his  state  after 
death. — "  For  a  living  dog  is  better  than  a  dead  lion ;" 
that  is,  the  meanest  living  is  better  than  the  noblest 
dead.  The  dog  was  not  only  an  unclean  animal  by  the 
Mosaic  law,  but,  being  gready  despised  amongst  the 
Jews,  was  often  used  as  the  emblem  of  what  was  despi- 
cable and  worthless.  Of  all  appellations  that  of  a  dead 
dog  was  the  most  contemptuous ;  and  a  living  dog  was 
not  much  better.* — The  lion  again  is  the  noblest  of 
the  beasts  of  the  forest ;  mighty,  majestic,  royal ;  he 
**  turns  not  away  for  any." — The  meanest  living  man 
possesses  a  superiority  over  the  mightiest  dead,  in  hav- 
ing life  itself,  and  power,  and  consciousness,  and  feel- 
ing, and  enjoyment;  which  with  regard  to  the  dead, 
viewed  in  their  relation  to  this  world,  are  all  at  an  end, 
and  equally  at  an  end,  whatever  their  power  and  emi- 
nence while  they  lived.  The  carcase  of  the  *'  king  of 
beasts"  may  be  carrion  to  the  vilest  and  most  worthless 

♦  See  1  Sam.  xxiv.  14.  2  Sam.  ix.  8.  2  Kings  viii.  13.  In  this  last  passage, 
Hazael's  exclamation  of  surprise  should  probably  be  rendered,  •'  But  what  is 
thy  servant — a  mere  dog — that  he  should  do  this  great  thing  ?"  It  is  not  the 
vileness,  but  the  greatness  of  the  thing  he  speaks  of:  and  it  does  not  seem  to 
be  indignatmi  that  he  expresses,  at  being  supposed  to  possess  dispositions  for  so 
base  and  odious  a  work ;  but  astonishment  that  one  so  mean  and  of  so  little  account 
as  he  aflects  to  call  himself,  should  be  deemed  competent  to  achieve  so  mighty  a 
work.  It  is  not  with  horror  he  startles,  according  to  the  common  view  of  his 
words,  like  one  unconscious  at  the  time  of  the  propensities  of  his  character, 
and  not  believing  himself  capable  of  such  enormities  : — it  is  rather  the  start 
of  an  agreeable  surprise ;  though  he  covers,  by  an  affected  humility,  the  secret 
pleasure  of  an  aspiring  ambition. 


408  LECTURE  XVII. 

dog  that  breathes.  The  lowest  and  most  despised  sub- 
ject  the  king  of  Assyria  hud  was  in  these  respects  su- 
perior to  his  fallen  master,  when  "  his  pomp  was 
brought  down  to  the  grave,  and  the  noise  of  his  viols, 
when  the  worm  was  spread  under  him,  and  the  worm 
covered  him."  The  most  abject  wretch  might  then 
stand  on  his  tomb,  and  say,  '•  How  art  thou  fallen  from 
heaven,  O  Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning !  how  art  thou 
cut  down  to  the  ground,  that  didst  weaken  the  na- 
tions !"  He  might  stamp  over  his  ashes,  and  insult  his 
name: — no  ear  startles  at  the  sound;  no  eye  kindles; 
no  hand  stirs  to  grasp  the  avenging  blade  :— all  is  still 
and  motionless  : — "  there  is  no  voice,  nor  any  to  an- 
swer, nor  any  that  regardeth." 

The  description,  in  the  third  verse,  of  the  "  sons  of 
men"  shows,  that  under  that  designation  Solomon  does 
not  include  those  whose  hearts  have  been  changed  by- 
Divine  grace,  who  have  been  "  delivered  from  this  pre- 
sent evil  world,"  but  the  mass  of  mankind  in  general, 
that  part  of  the  race  which  has  ever,  alas !  been  the 
great  majority,  who  "  walk  after  their  own  lusts,"  fol- 
lowing the  tendencies  of  their  fallen  nature. — "  To  him 
that  is  joined  to  all  the  living,  there  is  hope."  1  might 
have  conceived  this  to  express  the  encouragement 
which  wicked  men  derive  from  hope  to  perseverance  in 
their  evil  courses,  and  even  in  their  maddest  indul- 
gences ;  and  "  a  living  dog  is  better  than  a  dead 
lion,"  to  mean  the  unthinking  exultation  of  such 
men  in  the  continued  possession  of  life  ;  their  im- 
pious vaunting  that  death  has  not  yet  made  them  his 
prey ;  and  their  high-spirited  determination  to  avail 
themselves  of  life  while  they  have  it.  But  the  connec- 
tion of  the  following  verses  inclines  me  to  a  different 
sense : — 


ECCLES.  IX.  1 — 10.  409 

Verses,  5,  6.  "  For  the  livinj^  know  that  they  shall 
die ;  but  the  dead  know  not  any  thing,  neither  have  they 
any  more  a  reward ;  for  the  memory  of  them  is  for- 
gotten. Also  their  love,  and  their  hatred,  and  their  envy, 
is  now  perished ;  neither  have  they  any  more  a  portion 
for  ever  in  any  (thing)  that  is  done  under  the  sun." 

Whatever  encouragement  to  sin  the  wicked  might 
derive  from  their  hopes  of  prolonging  life,  and  even 
from  their  illusory  promises  to  themselves  of  impunity 
beyond  the  grave,  it  is  evident  they  could  derive  none 
from  "  knowing  that  they  must  die  ;" — unless  indeed 
the  limitation  of  their  time  might  be  an  excitement 
to  them,— an  unhallowed  excitement,_to  make  the 
most  of  it ;  to  drink  as  largely  as  they  may  of  the  cup 
of  pleasure,  ere  the  hand  of  Death  dash  it  from  their 
lips:— and  this  is  accordingly  one  of  the  favourite 
themes  *'  in  the  song  of  fools,"  in  their  hours  of  jovial 
revelry. — I  am  disposed  to  think,  however,  that  Solo- 
mon uses  the  words  more  seriously.    "  To  him  that  is 

joined  to  all  the  living  there  is  hope  : for  the  living 

know  that  they  must  die."  To  them,  death  is  yet  to 
come.  The  solemn  prospect  is  still  before  them ;  a 
prospect  which  must  be  realized,  and  they  know  not 
when.  Till  the  event  has  taken  place,  we  cannot  pro- 
nounce on  their  future  doom.  While  there  is  life, 
there  is  hope.  They  may  consider  their  ways.  They 
may  turn  to  the  Lord.  They  may  be  prepared  for  their 
latter  end,  and  for  meeting  their  God.  But  when  once 
the  dissolution  of  soul  and  body  has  taken  place, — all 
is  over ;  life  is  gone,  and  hope  with  it. 

A  variety  of  humbling  and  affecting  views  are  then 
set  before  us,  of  the  termination  of  the  earthly  career 
of  wicked  and  worldly  men. 

First,  Of  all  that  engaged  and  interested  their  atten- 
3F 


:H0  LECTURE  XVII. 

tion  while  they  lived,  their  knowledge  is  at  an  end. 
Their  acquaintance  with  every  thing  on  earth  has 
closed:—*'  the  dead  know  not  any  thing."  We  can  im- 
part to  them  no  intelligence  of  what  is  doing  and  of  what 
is  passing  here.  And  what  is  of  infinitely  weightier 
moment,  we  can  no  more  communicate  to  their  ear  the 
tidings  of  mercy,  the  knowledge  that  "  maketh  wise 
unto  salvation."  "  wisdom  at"  every  "  entrance"  is 
now  "  quite  shut  out." 

Secondly.  "  They  have  had  their  reward."  Thus 
Jesus  speaks  of  those  who  valued  and  courted  the  praise 
of  men,  rather  than  the  praise  of  God.  And  thus  Solo- 
mon here  speaks  of  such  as  have  laboured  after  this 
world ;  have  "  laid  up  for  themselves  treasures  upon 
earth ;"  have  pursued  pleasure,  or  wealth,  or  power, 
or  glory,  as  their  chief  good  ;  have  continued  to  live  in 
carelessness  and  sin  :— '^  neither,"  says  he,  "  have  they 
anymore  a  reward  :"  that  is,  they  have  already  had  it. 
And  when  they  have  plunged  themselves  into  irreme- 
diable despair,  it  will  be  said  to  each  of  them,  contrast- 
ing their  state  with  that  of  the  poorest  and  most  de- 
spised and  afflicted  of  God's  children,  "  Son,  remember, 
that  thou  in  thy  lifetime  receivedst  thy  good  things, 
and  likev/ise  Lazarus  evil  things  :  but  now,  he  is  com- 
forted, and  thou  art  tormented."* 

Thirdly.  They  have  not  even  posthumous  fame. — 
Whilst  their  reward  on  earth  is  at  an  end,  and  their 
sufferings  in  the  other  world  are  commenced,  never  to 
terminate ;  '^  the  memory  of  them  is  forgotten." — "  As 
the  cloud  is  consumed  and  vanisheth  away,  so  he  that 
goeth  down  to  the  grave  shall  come  up  no  more.  He 
shall  return  no  more  to  his  house,  neither  shall  his  place 
know  him  any  more*"  We  had  the  same  circumstance 

*  Luke  xvi.  25. 


ECCLES.  IX.   1 10.  411 

particularized  in  the  preceding  chapter  : — "  I  saw  the 
wicktd  buried,  that  had  come  and  gone  from  the  place 
of  the  holy  ;  and  they  were  forgotten  in  the  city  where 
they  had  so  done." 

Fourthly.  They  are  utterly  impotent :  they  have  no 
power  whatever  remaining,  either  to  profit  or  to  hurt, 
and  are  neither  courted  for  the  one,  nor  feared  for  the 
other.  This  seems  to  be  the  idea  chiefly  intended  bv 
their  "  love  and  their  hatred  and  their  envy  having  now 
perished."  Their  power  to  benefit  and  to  injure  is 
alike  gone.  The  objects  of  their  love  can  derive  from 
it  no  advantage,  nor  can  the  victims  of  their  hatred  and 
envy  sustain  from  them  any  damage.  While  they  lived, 
their  favour  might  be  courted,  and  its  effects  desired  ; 
their  displeasure  deprecated,  their  hatred  and  envy  dread- 
ed, the  consequences  of  them  anxiously  shunned.  But 
their  mere  names  have  no  charm  either  of  blessing  or 
of  curse.  The  ashes  of  the  grave  can  do  neither  evil  nof' 
good.  "  There  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling." 
*^Put  not  your  trust  in  princes,  (nor)  in  the  son  of 
man,  in  whom  (there  is)  no  help.  His  breath  goeth 
forth  ;  he  returneth  to  his  earth  ;  in  that  very  day  his 
thoughts  perish."* 

Lastly.  Their  portion  of  enjoyment,  such  as  it  was, 
is  gone^or  ever.  They  "  had  their  portion  in  this  life  ;"f 
and  when  this  life  comes  to  a  close,  it  is  necessarily  lost: 
— "neither  have  they  any  more  a  portion  for  ever  in 
any  (thing)  that  is  done  under  the  sun."  While  they 
lived,  they  had  a  portion  in  their  own  labours,  under 
the  sun  ;  but  now,  others  are  entered  into  their  labours, 
reaping  the  fruits  of  them,  and  striving  to  add  to  them. 
These  occupants  shall  be  followed  by  others.  But  they 
themselves  shall  never  return  to  their  place.     Death  is 

*  Job  iii.  17.     Psal.  cxlvi  3,  4.  t  Psal.  xvii.  14. 


41S  LECTURE  XVII. 

not  a  temporary  absence,  but  an  eternal  adieu.  And 
if  this  world  be  a  man's  portion,  when  he  dies  it  is  for 
ever  gone. 

Thus  the  conclusion  to  which  Solomon  comes,  and 
his  solution  of  the  difficulty  arising  from  the  prosperity 
of  the  wicked,  are  very  similar  to  those  of  Asaph  : — 
^^When  I  thought  to  know  this,  it  (was)  too  painful 
for  me ;  until  I  went  into  the  sanctuary  of  God  ;  (then) 
understood  1  their  end.  Surely  thou  didst  set  them  in 
slippery  places,  thou  castedst  them  down  into  destruc- 
tion. How  are  they  (brought)  into  desolation  as  in  a 
moment !  they  are  utterly  consumed  with  terrors.  As 
a  dream  when  (one)  awaketh,  so,  O  Lord,  when  thou 
awakest,  thou  shalt  despise  their  image.  Thus  my 
heart  was  grieved,  and  I  was  pricked  in  my  reins.  So 
foolish  (was)  I  and  ignorant ;  I  was  as  a  beast  before 
thee.  Nevertheless  I  (am)  continually  with  thee  :  thou 
hast  holden  (me)  by  my  right  hand."*  And  as  the 
Psalmist,  returning  to  a  right  mind,  restored  to  confi- 
dence in  God,  delights  himself  anew  in  his  love  and 
mercy,  saying,  in  the  spirit  of  self-devotion,  "  Thou 
shalt  guide  me  by  thy  counsel,  and  afterward  receive 
me  to  glory.  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  (but  thee  ?)  and 
(there  is)  none  upon  earth  (whom)  I  desire  in  com- 
parison of  thee  :  my  flesh  and  my  heart  fail,  (but)  God 
(is)  the  strength  of  my  heart,  and  my  portion  for  ever,  "f 
.^so  Solomon  here,  addressing  himself  to  the  children 
of  God,  exhorts  them  to  the  exercise  of  trust  and  joy:— 

Verse  7.  "  Go  thy  way,  eat  thy  bread  widi  joy,  and 
drink  thy  wine  with  a  merry  heart ;  for  God  now  ac- 
cepteth  thy  works."— Let  thy  mind  be  fully  assured, 
notwithstanding  all  the  appearances  of  the  contrary  that 
have  disquieted  thy  spirit,  that  '*  the  Lord  loveth  the. 
righteous."  Go  thy  way  ;  be  cheerful  and  happy. 

*  Psal.  IxxUi.  16—23,  +  Psal.  IxxUi.  24—26. 


ECCLES.  IX.   1 10.  4ta 

The  description  of  the  conduct  of  the  first  Chris- 
tians, in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  affords  a  fine  exem- 
plification of  what  Solomon  means  in  this  verse:  — 
*'  Continuing  daily  with  one  accord  in  the  temple,  and 
breaking  bread  from  house  to  house,  they  did  eat  their 
meat  with  gladness  and  singleness  of  heart,  praising 
God,  and  having  favour  with  all  the  people."*— The 
same  kind  of  joy  is  described  in  these  words  with  that 
recommended  in  the  passage  before  us.  It  is  the  glad- 
ness of  heart  that  springs  from  a  sense  of  the  Divine 
favour ;  from  the  lifting  up  of  the  light  of  God's 
countenance. 

"God  now  accepteth  thy  works  :" — yes— even  now, 
in  the  midst  of  all  these  difficulties  and  perplexing  ap. 
pearances  :— let  not  these  shake  and  unsettle  your  mind  : 
^even  now,  he  "loveth  righteousness,  and  his  counte- 
nance beholdeth  the  upright :" — he  regards  their  works, 
the  fruits  of  faith  and  love,  with  approving  complacency ; 
and  he  will  at  last,  before  assembled  worlds,  manifest 
at  once  his  delight  in  his  people,  and  his  hatred  of  the 
workers  of  iniquity. — Therefore, 

Verse  8.  "  Let  thy  garments  be  always  white,  and 
let  thy  head  lack  no  ointment." 

White  garments  were  worn  on  occasions  of  festive 
joy.  Isaiah  speaks  of  the  "  garment  of  praise"  being 
given  to  ''  them  that  mourn  in  Zion,"  instead  of  "  the 
spirit  of  heaviness  ;"f  and  perhaps  the  joy  of  the  saints 
in  heaven  is  intended,  as  well  as  their  justification  and 
purity,  by  their  being  "clothed  in  white  raiment." 
This  idea  is  especially  countenanced  by  one  passage, 
where,  besides  being  "  clothed  with  white  robes,"  they 
are  represented  as  having  "palms  in  their  hands,"  — 
the  palms  of  victory  and  triumph, — and  as  "  crying 

*  Acts  ii.  46,  47,  t  ^sa.  Ixi.  3. 


414*  LECTURE  xvir. 

with  a  loud  voice," — the  voice  surely  of  exulting  glad- 
ftess, — **  Siilvaiion  to  our  God  who  sitteth  upon  the 
throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb!"* 

Anointing  with  oil,  and  with  fragrant  ointments,  was 
also  a  customary  practice,  to  which  there  are  various 
allusions  in  other  parts  of  Scripture.  It  was  not  only 
performed  as  a  rite  of  official  consecration  ;  it  was  one 
of  the  daily  ceremonies  of  the  dressing  chamber,  and 
of  preparation  for  appearing  abroad  ;  and  it  was  par- 
ticularly attended  to  on  occasions  of  personal,  domestic, 
or  pubhc  rejoicing.  Hence  we  read  of  the  mourners  in 
Zion  receiving  "  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning  ;"f  and  of 
the  blessed  Messiah  being  "  anointed  with  the  oil  of 
gladness^  above  his  fellows." — *'  Thou  hast  anointed 
my  head  with  oil,"  says  the  Psalmist  David,  "  my  cup 
runneth  over."|  "  My  horn  shalt  thou  exalt  like  (the 
horn  of)  a  unicorn  ;  I  shall  be  anointed  with  fresh  oil."^ 
When  Joab  sent  the  woman  of  Tekoah  to  king  David, 
he  said  to  her,  *'  Feign  thyself  to  be  a  mourner,  and  put 
on  mourning  apparel,  and  a?ioint  not  thyself  with  oil, 
but  be  as  a  woman  that  had  a  long  time  mourned  for 
the  dead."H  Daniel's  real  mourning  was  expressed  in 
the  same  way.  He  "  ate  no  pleasant  bread,  neither  did 
flesh  nor  wine  come  into  his  mouth,  neither  did  he 
anoint  himself  ^\  all  :"1[  and  in  warning  against  osten- 
tatious hypocrisy,  Christ  says,  "  But  thou,  when  thou 
fastest,  anoint  thy  head,  and  wash  thy  face,  that  thou  ap- 
pear not  unto  men  to  fast,  but  to  thy  Father  who  is  in 
secret."**  The  miraculous  healing  of  the  sick  was  in 
many  instances  accompanied  with  "  anointing  them 
with  oil  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  ;"  and  the  sacred  in- 
fluences of  the  Spirit  of  grace  are  denominated   "  an 

*  Rev,  iij.  4,  5.  vii.  9,  10.  f  las.  Ixi.  3.  i  Psal.  xxiii.  5. 

■J  Ibid.  xcii.  10,        H  2  Sam,  xlv.  2.        1  Y)m.  x.  3.        ♦*  Matt.  vi.  17. 


ECCLES.  IX.   1 10.  415 

unction  from  the  Holy  One."— The  notion  o^ pleasure 
thus  seems  invariably  associated  with  the  practice  ;  and 
it  was  aptly  indicated  by  the  richness  and  freshness, 
and,  in  many  cases,  by  the  aromatic  fragrance,  of  the 
balsamic  unguents.— "Let  thy  head  lack  no  ointment" 
is  equivalent  to—Rejoice  in  the  bounty  and  loving-kind- 
ness of  the  Lord  :  "  let  not  thy  heart  be  troubled,  neither 
let  it  be  afraid."  And  the  expression  "  let  thy  garments 
be  always  white"  is  of  the  same  amount  with  the  apos- 
tolic exhortation,  "  Rejoice  evermore!"  Take  the  en- 
joyment of  whatever  the  hand  of  a  kind  providence  be- 
stows, with  a  grateful  and  cheerful  spirit ;— not  with 
selfishness  or  extravagance,  or  thoughtless  mirth  ;  but 
with  benevolence  and  sobriety,  and  with  that  true  joy 
which  is  independent  of  the  possessions  of  time,  which, 
coming  from  above,  infuses  into  the  things  of  earth  a 
relish  of  heaven,  and  would  continue  to  be  the  inmate 
of  the  pious  soul,  though  they  were  all  removed. 

Verse  9.  "  Live  joyfully  with  the  wife  whom  thou 
lovest,  all  the  days  of  the  life  of  thy  vanity,  which  he 
hath  given  thee  under  the  sun,  all  the  days  of  thy  vanity ; 
for  that  (is)  thy  portion  in  (this)  life,  and  in  thy  labour 
which  thou  takest  under  the  sun." 

How  sadly  does  Solomon,  in  these  words,  condemn 
his  own  practice  !  He  commends  marriage,  in  the  form 
in  which  it  existed  from  the  beginning,  as  a  source  of 
genuine  happiness,  the  sweetest  that  earth  can  furnish  ; 
but  he  warns  against  such  departures  from  its  original 
institution,  as  he  had  himself  known,  by  bitter  experi- 
ence, to  frustrate  the  kind  intentions  of  Heaven  in  its 
appomtment.-*'  Live  joyfully  with  the  wife  whom  thou 
lovest,"~the  one  object  of  thy  undivided  affections, 
with  whom  thou  hast  plighted  mutual  faith,  and  who 
has  given  thee  her  heart  in  return  for  thine.   It  is  only 


416  LECTURE  XVII. 

in  this  way  that  conjugal  and  domestic  felicity,  the 
purest  and  richest  of  temporal  delights,  and  the  dearest 
earthly  solace  of  this  valley  of  tears,  can  be  effectually 
enjoyed.  It  is  the  will  of  God,  intimated  in  nature  by 
the  numerical  proportion  of  the  sexes,  and  explicitly 
declared  in  his  word,  that  "  every  man  should  have  his 
own  wife,  and  every  woman  her  own  husband."  This 
was  the  first  and  permanent  law,  when  God,  in  the  be- 
ginning ^'  made  a  male  and  a  female,  and  said,  For  this 
cause  shall  a  man  leave  father  and  mother,  and  cleave 
wnto  his  wife,  and  they  two  shall  be  one  flesh."  It  were 
out  of  place  to  enlarge  on  the  adgantages,  both  to  the 
parties  themselves  and  to  their  offspring,  of  adherence 
to  this  arrangement.  All  recorded  experience  is  in  fa- 
vour of  it ;  and  how  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  Not  only 
did  such  flagrant  transgressors  as  Solomon  make  them- 
selves miserable  by  the  violation  of  it.  Look  even  to 
patriarchal  times.  The  quarrels  of  Sarah  and  Hagar, 
were  a  grief  to  Abraham  ;  his  grandson  Jacob  was 
vexed  by  those  of  Rachel  and  Leah ;  while  Isaac, 
although  not  without  sources  of  trial,  (for  who  is,  or 
who  can  be,  in  this  world  of  sin  ?)  yet  appears,  in  this 
particular,  to  have  lived  a  life  of  harmonious  and  tran- 
quil happiness  with  his  heaven-sent  and  loved  Rebekah. 
But  our  joy  in  the  dearest  relations,  as  well  as  in  all 
the  possessions  of  life,  is  to  be  maintained  in  the  re- 
membrance that  our  days  are  vanity  :■— "  Live  joyfully 
with  the  wife  whom  thou  lovest,  all  the  days  of  the  life 
of  thy  vanity,  which  he  hath  given  thee  under  the  sun, 
all  the  days  of  thy  vanity."— The  most  intimate  and 
endearing  connections,  the  springs  of  our  most  exqui- 
site enjoyment,  are  necessarily  but  temporary.  Every 
marriage  should  be  formed  in  the  recollection,  that 
sooner  or  later  it  must  leave  a  widow  or  a  widower. 


ECCLES.  IX.   1 10.  417 

And  blessed  are  they,  whom  the  remembrance  of  the 
vanity  of  life  does  not  deprive  of  the  rehsh  of  its  joys  1 
— *'  For  that  (is)  thy  portion  in  (this)  life  j"  these  sources 
of  happiness,  both  personal  and  social,  are  given  thee 
to  be  enjoyed,  as  thine  allotted  measure  of  this  world's 
good,  while  this  frail  and  mortal  life  continues  : — "  and 
in  thy  labour  which  thou  takest  under  the  sun  ;" — they 
are  at  once  the  fruit  of  thy  labour,  through  the  smile 
and  blessing  of  heaven  upon  the  work  of  thy  hands, 
and  they  are  the  cheering  solace  of  thy  labour,  amidst 
all  its  fatigues  and  its  occasional  disappointments  and 
difficulties.  The  mode  of  expression  in  this  verse  re- 
markably accords  with  the  apostle's  admonition,  to  re- 
member the  shortness  of  time  both  in  its  joys  and  its 
woes:  "  but  this  I  say,  brethren,  the  time  (is)  short :  it 
remaineth,  that  both  they  that  have  wives  be  as  though 
they  had  none  ;  and  they  that  weep  as  though  they 
wept  not ;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoic- 
ed not ;  and  they  that  buy,  as  though  they  possessed 
not ;  and  they  that  use  this  world,  as  not  abusing  (it:) 
for  the  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away."^ 

There  is  a  connection  between  the  exhortation  in 
this  verse  to^oy,  and  that  in  the  tenth  to  active  diligence, 
founded  on  the  principle  so  finely  expressed  by  Ne- 
hemiah  to  the  Israelites  : — "  Go  your  way,  eat  the  fat, 
and  drink  the  sweet,  and  send  portions  to  those  for 
whom  nothing  is  prepared  :  for  (this)  day  (is)  holy  unto 
our  Lord  :  neither  be  ye  sorry,  for  the  joy  of  the  Lord 
is  your  strength.'"] — Verse  10.  ''  Whatsoever  thy  hand 
findeth  to  do,  do  (it)  with  thy  might :  for  (there  is)  no 
work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor  w^isdom,  in  the. 
grave,  whither  thou  goest." 

Dejection  and  melancholy  unbrace  all  the  sinews  of 

*  I  Cor.  vii.  29—31.  t  N"^-  vi^i-  10- 


4)18  LECTURE  XVIl. 

exertion.  They  make  the  hands  to  hang  down,  and  the 
knees  to  become  feeble.  When  the  mind  is  under  their 
influence,  nothing,  either  of  a  temporal  or  spiritual  na- 
ture, can  be  done  with  energy  and  effect.  All  is  spirit- 
less and  inefficient.  Whereas,  when  the  heart  is  light, 
when  the  spirits  are  buoyant  and  cheerful,  the  whole 
man,  in  all  his  powers,  is  prompt  and  vigorous  for 
duty  :  ^*  whatever  the  hand  finds  to  do  is  done  with 
might." 

I  need  not  say,  that  whatever  we  are  admonished  thus 
to  do,  must  be  in  its  nature  "  lawful  and  right."  The 
hand  may  find  to  do  what  God  has  forbidden.  But  this, 
instead  of  being  done  with  might,  must  not  be  done  at 
all. — The  exhortation  may  be  extended  to  all  duty, 
whether  in  reference  to  ourselves,  to  others  or  to  God. 
In  compliance  with  it,  the  child  of  God  will  not  be 
*'  slothful  in  business,"  but  set  an  example  of  active 
industry,  "  working  with  his  hands  the  things  which  is 
good  ;"  that  he  may  "  walk  honestly  toward  them  that 
are  without;"  that  he  may  "  have  lack  of  nothing;" 
and  that  he  may  "have  to  give  to  him  that  needeth." 
In  compliance  with  it,  he  will  "  work  out  his  own  sal- 
vation with  fear  and  trembling,"  in  the  spirited  and 
unremitting  use  of  the  means  of  establishment  and 
growth  in  grace  ;  "  giving  diligence  to  make  his  call- 
ing and  election  sure,"  by  "  adding  to  his  faith,  forti- 
tude ;  and  to  fortitude,  knowledge,  and  to  knowledge, 
temperance  ;  and  to  temperance,  patience  ;  and  to  pa- 
tience, godliness;  and  to  godliness,  brotherly-kindness; 
and  to  brotherly-kindness,  charity."  In  compliance 
with  it,  he  will  give  himself,  with  constant  and  perse- 
vering energy,  to  those  works  which  have  for  their  ob- 
jects the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  men,  both  in 
their  temporal  and  eternal  interebis,— the  works  oi pietu 


ECCLES.  IX.   1 10.  419 

and  benevolence.  It  is  probably  to  these  that  the  exhor- 
tation chiefly  points.  Whatever  opportunities  God  gives 
thee  in  his  providence,  for  promoting  his  own  glory, 
and  for  advancing  the  present  and  the  everlasting  well- 
being  of  thy  fellow-creatures,  embrace  them  with  eager- 
ness ;  apply  to  them  all  thy  bodily  and  mental  energies ; 
persevere  in  them  with  unrelaxing  ardour.  Do  all 
"heartily,  as  to  the  Lord  and  not  to  men:" — "  do  it 
with  thy  might^''^  exerting  thyself,  like  a  person  who 
has  much  to  do,  and  who  knows  not  how  little  time  he 
may  have  to  do  it. 

Such  is  the  reason  given  for  the  admonition  : — "  for 
(there  is)  no  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor  wis- 
dom, in  the  grave,  whither  thou  goest." — Thou  art 
travelling  to  the  tomb.  Every  moment  brings  thee 
nearer  to  it;  and  every  moment  may  terminate  thy 
journey.  And  when  thou  hast  arrived  at  *'  the  house 
appointed  for  all  living," — "•  there  is  no  work''^  there; 
active  power  is  gone  :  there  is  no  "  device ;  no  scheme 
can  be  either  planned  or  executed  there  :  there  is  no 
"  knowledge''^  of  what  passes  on  the  earth  amongst  sur- 
viving men  :  and  there  is  no  ^^  wisdo??i ;  that  which  was 
unemployed  in  life,  can  there  be  no  longer  applied  to 
use. — In  fulfilling  the  admonition  of  this  verse,  we  imi- 
tate the  example  of  Him  whose  disciples  and  followers 
we  call  ourselves  :  for  his  language,  expressing  the  prin- 
ciple on  which  he  acted  every  day,  every  hour,  every 
moment  of  his  life,  is  in  the  full  spirit  of  it:— ''I  must 
work  the  works  of  Him  that  sent  me  while  it  is  day  : 
the  night  cometh,  when  no  man  can  work."* 

These  verses  suggest  the  following  reflections. 

In  the Jirst  place.  There  are  some  truths,  in  the  faith 
of  which  we  ought  at  all  times  to  be  firmly  established, 

*  John  jx.  4. 


420  LECTURE  XVII. 

and  of  which  we  should  not  allow  our  conviction  to  be 
readily  shaken  by  apparent  difficulties.  Of  this  descrip- 
tion especially  are  those  which  respect  the  existence  and 
l^erfections  of  Deity.  Every  thing  derogatory  to  his 
essential  excellence,  every  thing  of  the  nature  of  impu- 
tation against  any  of  his  necessary  moral  attributes,  we 
should  unhesitatingly  and  with  abhorrence  reject.  Diffi- 
culties  in  the  Divine  administration  we  might  well  ex- 
pect to  find.  But  let  nothing  of  this  kind  ever  shake 
our  conviction  that  he  is  righteous,  and  that  he  "  loveth 
righteousness  and  hateth  iniquity."  It  is  surely  much 
more  reasonable,  more  accordant  both  with  soundness 
of  judgment  and  with  lowliness  of  heart,  to  conclude, 
that  whatever  appears  opposite  to  this  is  opposite  in  ap- 
pearance only,  and  that  the  difficulty  arises  entirely  from 
our  short-sightedness  and  limited  knowledge.—"  Verily 
there  is  a  reward  for  the  righteous ;  verily  he  is  a  God 
that  judgeth  in  the  earth." 

Secondly.  In  the  full  confidence  of  this,  let  the  peo- 
ple of  God  "rejoice  in  tribulation."  The  design  of 
their  heavenly  Father,  in  all  their  trials,  is  in  perfect 
harmony  with  the  assurances  of  his  paternal  love.  His 
discipline  is  one  of  the  expressions  of  that  love.  He 
would  be  neither  faithful  nor  kind,  were  he  to  withhold 
it,  when,  in  his  infinite  wisdom,  he  perceives  it  to  be 
necessary  for  their  spiritual  benefit.  *^  My  son,  despise 
not  thou  the  chastening  of  the  Lord,  neither  be  weary 
of  his  correction  ;  for  whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  cor- 
recteth,  even  as  a  father  the  son  in  wliom  he  delighteth." 
*'  We  have  had  fathers  of  our  flesh  who  corrected  (us,) 
and  we  gave  (them)  reverence;  shall  we  not  much  rather 
be  in  subjection  unto  the  Father  of  spirits,  and  live  ? 
For  they  verily,  for  a  few  days  chastened  (us)  after  their 
pleasure,  but  he  for  (our)  profit,  that  we  might  be  par- 


ECCLES.  IX.   1 10.  421 

takers  of  his  holiness."*  Be  assured  of  this  all-merci- 
ful intention  under  the  severest  strokes  of  his  hand, 
and  even  although  you  should  appear  to  be  selected 
for  suffering,  whilst  the  ungodly  around  you  are  enjoy- 
ing prosperity.  Be  not  startled  nor  stumbled  at  this  ; 
but  look,  in  the  exercise  of  faith,  for  present  and  ulti- 
mate good  from  all  that  you  are  called  to  endure.  Imi- 
tate Moses,  in  *'  choosing  radier  to  suffer  affliction  with 
the  people  of  God,  than  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin 
for  a  season."  Repress  the  risings  of  a  foolish  and 
criminal  envy.  Rejoice  in  hope.  ^^  The  trial  of  your 
faith,  being  much  more  precious  than  of  gold,  that 
perisheth  though  it  be  tried  with  fire,  shall  be  found 
unto  praise  and  honour  and  glory  at  the  appearing  of 
Jesus  Christ."  Cleave  to  the  Lord  with  purpose  of 
heart.  Bow  to  his  sovereignty  ;  yield  to  his  wisdom  ; 
rely  on  his  faithfulness ;  rejoice  in  his  love  ;  be  strong 
in  his  strength.  His  grace  is  sufficient  for  you,  and  will 
*'  keep  you  through  faith  unto  salvation."  "  What  shall 
we  then  say  to  these  things  ?  If  God  (be)  for  us,  who 
(can  be)  against  us  ?  He  who  spared  not  his  own  Son, 
but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall  he  not,  with 
him,  also  freely  give  us  all  things?  Who  shall  separate 
us  from  the  love  of  Christ  ?  (Shall,  tribulation,  or  dis- 
tress, or  persecution,  or  famine,  or  nakedness,  or  peril, 
or  sword  ?  [As  it  is  written,  For  thy  sakev'c  are  killed 
all  the  day  long ;  we  are  accounted  as  sheep  for  the 
slaughter.]  Nay,  in  all  these  things  we  are  more  than 
conquerors,  through  him  that  loved  us.  For  I  am  per- 
suaded, that  neither  death  nor  life,  nor  angels  nor  prin- 
cipalities nor  powers,  nor  things  present  nor  things  to 
come,  nor  height  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature, 
shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God. 
which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord."t 

♦_rrov.  iii.  11, 12.    Heb.  xii.  9,  10.  t  ^^om.  viii.  31,  32,  35—39. 


4^S  LECTURE  XVII. 

Thirdly.  Let  the  ungodly  and  worldly  man  beware 
of  interpreting  his  earthly  prosperity,  however  great 
and  however  constant,  into  a  token  of  Divine  favour 
and  approbation,  or  an  evidence  that  God  never  will  call 
him  to  "  give  an  account  of  his  stewardship."  This  is  a 
miserable  delusion  ;  a  fearful  abuse  of  the  providence 
of  God.  O  flatter  not  yourselves,  as  if  the  God  who 
permits  you  to  prosper,  the  kind  and  indulgent  Author 
of  all  your  undeserved  and  ill-requited  blessings,  ap- 
proves or  thinks  lightly  of  your  sins.  He  hates  them  ; 
and  he  -will  punish  them.  *'  He  is  not  a  God  that  hath 
pleasure  in  wickedness,  neither  shall  evil  dwell  with 
him."  Let  not  that  be  your  encouragement  to  con- 
tinued disregard  of  God,  which  ought  to  melt  you  to 
penitence,  and  to  win  your  heart  to  gratitude  and  love. 
Let  not  your  prosperity  thus  be  your  ruin.  It  is  "  the 
prosperity  oi  fools  that  destroys  them."  If,  lulled  by 
such  a  delusion,  you  persist  in  forgetting  God,  and  are 
only  waked  by  the  summons  to  judgment, — wo  is  me 
for  you  !  As  the  righteous  may  be  assured  of  the  favour 
of  God,  you  may,  with  equal  certainty,  be  assured  of 
his  holy  displeasure  ;  and  well  may  you  tremble  for  its 
consequences.  "  Say  unto  the  wicked,  It  shall  be  ill 
with  him."  ''  When  the  wicked  spring  as  the  grass, 
and  all  the  workers  of  iniquity  do  flourish,  it  is  that 
they  shall  be  destroyed  for  ever."  "The  wrath  of 
God,"  which  is  '^  revealed  from  heaven  against  all  un- 
godliness and  unrighteousness  of  men,"  rests  upon 
them  amidst  all  their  prosperity,  and  shall  abide  upon 
them  for  ever; — the  wrath  of  a  holy,  just,  almighty, 
and  immutable  God.  They  "  spring"  and  "  flourish  :" 
bnt  they  are  not  "  trees  of  righteousnsss,  the  planting 
of  the  Lord,  in  which  he  is  glorified  j"  and  "  every 
tree  that  bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit,  shall  be  hewn 
down,  and  cast  into  the  fire." 


ECCLES.  IX.   1 — ^10.  433 

Fourthly.  In  forming  our  estimate  of  the  compara- 
tive happiness  of  different  descriptions  of  men,  we  should 
take  into  our  account  the  whole  extent  of  their  exis- 
tence, and  not  merely  this  transitory  life.— It  is  passing 
strange,  that  any  who  profess  to  believe  in  the  immor- 
tality of  man  should  ever  overlook  this  self-evident 
principle.  It  is  peculiarly  wonderful,  that  it  should,  on 
any  occasion,  escape  the  recollection  of  those  who  have 
themselves  been  taught  of  God  to  "  look  not  at  the 
things  which  are  seen,  but  at  the  things  which  are  not 
seen."  Yet  it  was  forgetfulness  of  this  that  constituted 
the  main  error  of  Asaph,  when  he  was  envious  at  the 
prosperity  of  the  wicked  ;  and  it  was  by  being  remind- 
ed of  it,  that  his  spirit  was  set  at  liberty  from  the  bon- 
dage of  temptation. — It  was  the  saying  of  an  ancient 
philosopher,  that  no  man  should  be  pronounced  happy 
till  after  his  death  ;  by  which  he  intended  to  express 
the  extreme  uncertainty  of  earthly  enjoyments,  and  the 
impossibility  of  knowing  how  soon  the  sunshine  of  pros- 
perity might  be  overcast,  and  how  long  and  how  deep 
might  be  the  subsequent  gloom  : — how  quickly  the  cup 
of  sweets  might  be  dashed  from  the  lips,  and  a  bitter 
cup  succeed  it,  so  full  and  so  nauseous,  as  to  make  the 
sweet  be  all  forgotten.  But  the  word  of  God  teaches 
us  to  go  still  further  ;  not  only  to  suspend  our  sentence 
of  happiness  or  misery  till  the  earthly  course  has  been 
finished,  but  to  look  beyond  its  close,  into  the  eternity 
that  follows  it.  It  would  be  very  foolish  to  pronounce 
a  man  happy  in  this  world,  on  account  of  one  day's  en- 
joyment, succeeded  by  threescore  years  of  severe,  un- 
intermitted,  and  unmitigated  suffering.  It  were  more 
foolish,  in  the  proportion  of  everlasting  existence  to  the 
short  period  of  human  life,  to  call  him  a  happy  man, 
who  should  enjoy  throughout  the  threescore  years  all 


4S4f  LECTURE  XVII. 

that  this  world  could  possibly  furnish,  and  then  sink 
into  an  eternity  of  wo.  So  mighty  is  the  disproportion 
between  the  present  and  the  future  part  of  man's  exis- 
tence, that  we  cannot  be  said  to  have  estimated  his  hap- 
piness at  all,  if  we  have  left  ihe  latter  out  of  our  calcu- 
lation. For  the  lives  of  all  mankind  together  bear  no 
proportion  to  eternity.  They  are  not  to  it  what  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye  is  to  the  life  of  Methuselah. — We 
are  not  required  to  prefer  the  temporal  situation  of 
Lazarus,  to  that  of  the  rich  man.  But  who,  in  the 
possession  of  a  sound  understanding,  would  hesitate  to 
prefer  the  character  and  entire  existence  of  the  one  to 
the  character  and  entire  existence  of  the  other?  Who 
would  not  prefer  the  poverty,  and  sores,  and  squalid 
wretchedness  of  the  beggar,  followed  by  an  endless 
duration  of  bliss,  to  the  riches,  and  health,  and  finery, 
and  sumptuous  fare  of  his  lordly  superior,  succeeded 
by  everlasting  torment  in  the  "  fire  that  never  shall  be 
quenched  ?" 

Fifthly.  Let  the  precariousness  of  the  tenure  by 
which  life  is  held,  along  with  the  decisiveness  of  death, 
in  for  ever  terminating  all  connection  with  the  concerns 
of  time,  and  fixing  irreversibly  the  future  state,  warn 
the  ungodly,  the  careless,  the  worldly,  to  seek  a  more 
durable  portion  than  any  they  can  possess  here,  and  to 
flee  in  time  for  refuge  from  the  coming  wrath. — What 
a  sad  thing  will  it  be,  my  friends,  should  it  be  said  at 
last  of  any  one  of  you.  He  has  had  his  reward  !— "  To 
him  that  is  joined  to  all  the  living  there  is  hope."  Im- 
prove, then,  the  time  of  your  merciful  visitation.  "  To- 
day, if  ye  will  hear  his  voice,  harden  not  your  hearts." 
For  when  a  man  has  been  "joined  to  the  dead,"  if  he 
has  lived  and  died  in  his  sins,  hope  is  at  an  end.  His 
sentence  is  sealed ;  and  the  seal  can  never  be  broken. 


'   ^  ECCLES.  IX.  1  —  10.  435 

From  the  prison  of  hell  he  can  never  return  to  this 
world  ;  and  between  it  and  the  abodes  of  the  blessed 
there  is  fixed  a  great  and  impassable  gulph ;  across 
which  no  sounds  of  mercy,  no  tidings  of  salvation,  no 
proclamations  of  pardon,  reach  his  ear.  "  Hope  never 
comes,  that  comes  to  all." 

As  there  is  hope  for  all  that  are  "joined  to  the  living,'* 
we  are  encouraged  to  announce  and  recommend  to  all 
that  live,  the  mercy  offered  by  the  gospel  to  sinners 
through  the  one  Mediator.  But  still  remember,  words 
cannot  express  the  uncertainty  of  life.  To  some  of  you, 
this  may  be  your  last  warning.  To-morrow  may  dis- 
join you  from  the  living,  and  settle  your  eternal  doom* 
O  look  now,  then,  unto  Jesus.  Defer  not  reflection  to  a 
day  that  may  never  be  yours,  "  Turn  ye,  turn  ye,  for 
why  will  ye  die  !" 

Lastly.  Let  Christians  recommend  religion  by  dis* 
playing  its  cheerful  influence. — It  is  an  article  of  your 
creed,  that  the  discoveries  of  the  gospel  are  *'  good 
tidings  of  great  joy,"  and  that  "wisdom's  ways  are 
ways  of  pleasantness."  Let  not  your  deportment  belie 
your  professed  belief.  Are  you  to  show  yourselves 
believers  of  glad  tidings,  by  "  hanging  your  heads  like 
a  bulrush,  and  spreading  sackcloth  and  ashes  under 
you  ?"  by  a  countenance  never  lighted  up  with  a 
smile  ?  by  nothing  but  sighs,  and  tears,  and  groans  ? 
Is  it  not  the  precept  of  God,  intimating  at  once  your 
duty  and  your  privilege,  "Rejoice  evermore?"  Light 
is  the  emblem  of  knowledge,  and  purity,  and  joy  ;  and 
in  all  its  three  emblematic  senses,  Christians  are  "  chil- 
dren of  light."  "  Come  then,  O  house  of  Jacob,  and 
walk  in  the  light  of  the  Lord."  Truly  this  light  is 
sweet.  Present  to  all  around  you  a  just  and  inviting 
view  of  your  religion.  "  Lie  not  against  the  truth,"  by 
3  H 


4S6  LECTURE  XVII.    ECCLES.  IX.   1 10. 

leading  every  one  that  looks  you  in  the  face  to  fancy  it 
a  system  of  inveterate  and  incurable  melancholy.  There 
is  a  wide  distance  between  cheerfulness  and  levity  ;  be- 
tween the  tranquil  yet  animated  gladness  of  the  believ- 
ing soul,  and  the  frothy  and  transient  mirth  of  the  fool. 
Religion  is  at  an  equal  distance  from  unbecoming  fri- 
volity and  sullen  moroseness.  It  is  the  day-light  of  the 
soul.  Let  it  appear  in  its  true  character.  Let  it  infuse 
its  cheering  influence  into  your  enjoyment  of  all  your 
earthly  blessings.  "  Eat  thy  meat  with  gladness,  and 
drink  thy  wine  with  a  merry  heart ;  and  live  joyfully 
with  the  wife  whom  thou  lovest." — And  not  only  so ; 
but,  animated  by  the  faith  of  the  Divine  promises,  and 
by  the  blessed  prospects  that  are  before  you,  *'  rejoice 
in  tribulations  also  ;  knowing  that  tribulation  workeih 
patience ;  and  patience,  experience  ;  and  experience, 
hope ;  and  hope  maketh  not  ashamed,  because  the  love 
of  God  is  shed  abroad  in  your  hearts,  by  the  Holy  Spirit 
given  unto  you."* 

*  Rom.  V,  3 — 5, 


LECTURE  XVIII. 


ECCLES.  ix.   11 18. 

11  •*  I  returned,  and  saw  under  the  sun,  that  the  race(is)  not  to  the 
swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong,  neither  yet  bread  to  the  wise,  nor 
yet  riches  to  men  oj"  understuTiding,  nor  yet  favour  to  men  of  skilly 

12  but  time  and  chance  hafifitneth  to  them  all.  For  man  also  knoweth 
not  his  time :  as  the  fishes  that  are  taken  in  an  evil  net,  and  as  the 
birds  fthat  are  J  caught  in  the  snare  ;  so  fare  J  the  so7is  of  men 

lo  snared  in  an  evil  time,  when  itfalleth  suddenly  upon  them.  This 
wisdom  have  I  seen  also  under  the  sun,  and  it  (seemed  j  great  unto 

14  me:  (there  was)  a  little  city,  and  few  men  within  it,  and  there  came 
a  great  king  against  it,  aJid  beseiged  it,  and  built  great  bulwarks 

15  against  it.  A'ow  there  was  found  in  it  a  floor  wise  man,  and  he  by 
his  wisdom  delivered  the  city  ;  yet  no  man  remembered  that  same 

16  floor  man.  Then  said  I,  Wisdom  (is)  better  than  strength  :  never- 
theless the  floor  man's  wisdoin  (is)  dcsfiised,  and  his  words  are  not 

17  heard.   The  words  of  wise  (men  are  J  heard  in  quitt,  more  than  the 

18  cry  of  him  that  ruleth  among  fools.  Wisdom  (isj  better  than  wca- 
fions  of  war  :  but  one  sinner  destroyeth  much  good." 


XIaving,  in  the  preceding  part  of  the  chapter,  stated 
the  fact  of  the  indiscriminate  distribution  of  temporal 
good  and  evil  in  the  administration  of  providence,  and 
having  drawn  from  it  the  reflections  and  practical  les- 
sons which  it  suggested  ;  the  wise  man  returns  to  the 
further  examination  of  the  same  subject,  or  at  least  of 
one  very  closely  connected  with  it  in  the  Divine  pro- 
cedure :  — 

Verse  11.  "I  returned,  and  saw  under  the  sun,  that 
the  race  (is)  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong, 
neither  yet  bread  to  the  wise,  nor  yet  riches  to  men  of 
understanding,  nor  yet  favour  to  men  of  skill ;  but  time 
and  chance  happeneth  to  them  all." 


4iS>S  LECTURE  XVIll. 

This  verse  has  not  only  a  connection  with  the  gene- 
ral subject  of  the  preceding  passage,  but  a  more  imme- 
diate relation  to  verse  10.  In  it  he  exhorts  to  the  appli- 
cation of  vigorous  diligence  in  "  whatever  our  hand 
iindeth  to  do."  Here  he  suggests  a  caution  against  a 
too  sanguine  confidence  of  success,  after  the  exertion 
of  all  our  ability  and  all  our  skill.  Different  characters 
are  prone  to  opposite  extremes.  Some  are  so  timid  and 
diffident,  that  they  will  hardly  undertake  or  exert  them- 
selves in  any  thing,  from  the  apprehension  of  failure. 
Others  are  so  dauntless  and  ardent,  that  failure  hardly 
•ever  enters  into  their  calculations.  The  former  are  in 
danger  of  losing  opportunities  both  of  doing  and  of  ob- 
taining good.  They  stand  in  need  of  excitement.  The 
admonition  of  the  tenth  verse  requires  to  be  pressed 
upon  their  practical  regard ;  that  they  may  not  become 
the  victims  of  inactivity  and  sloth.  The  latter  are  in 
danger  of  precipitation  and  extravagance,  and,  by  their 
high  undoubting  assurance  of  success,  of  preparing  for 
themselves  the  bitterness  of  disappointment.  They 
need  the  counsels  of  humility  and  dependence.  The 
lesson  of  the  eleventh  verse  must  be  urged  upon  their 
notice  ,  a  lesson,  of  which  the  truth  must  be  obvious  to 
every  attentive  observer  of  human  affairs: — "  The  race 
is  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong,  neither 
yet  bread  to  the  wise,  nor  yet  riches  to  men  of  under- 
standing, nor  yet  favour  to  men  of  skill ;  but  time  and 
chance  happeneth  to  them  all." 

We  very  naturally  expect,  that  the  lightest  of  foot 
should  always  get  first  to  the  goal,  and  win  the  prize ; 
that  in  battle,  the  most  numerous  and  well  appointed 
and  powerful  army  should  uniformly  be  victorious;  that 
the  man  of  intelligence  and  prudence  in  business  should 
pever  f^il  to  make  rich ;  that  he  who  courts  favour  and 


ECCLES.  IX.   11 18.  429 

popularity,  by  skilful  and  well-devised  arts,  should  in- 
variably succeed  in  gaining  the  good  graces  of  his  fel- 
low-men.♦—But  experience  frequently  contradicts  our 
expectations.  The  man  who  is  '^  swift  of  foot  as  a  wild 
roe"  may  trip  and  stumble,  or  by  some  untoward  acci- 
dent be  thrown  behind  his  less  fleet  competitor,  innu- 
merable are  the  circumstances  that  affect  what  is  called 
the  fortune  of  war, — the  chance  of  battle,— so  that  at 
times  a  hundred  may  put  ten  thousand  to  fligj?t.  The 
most  intelligent  and  prudent  do,  not  unfrequently,  with 
all  their  application  and  care,  fail  of  gttting  forward  in 
the  world,  riches  seeming  unaccountably  to  elude  their 
grasp.  And  die  most  insinuating  and  skilful  courtier 
defeats  sometimes  his  own  purposes,  or  is  thwarted  by 
occurrences  which  he  could  not  control,  and  becomes 
the  most  unpopular  of  men. 

We  are  not  to  conclude  from  this,  that  there  is  no 
adaptation  of  means  to  ends,— no  tendency  in  these 
qualities  to  the  desired  event,  more  than  in  their  oppo- 
sites ;— that  there  is  no  superior  probability  of  success 
to  the  swift  more  than  to  the  slow,  to  the  strong  more 
than  to  the  weak,  to  the  intelligent  more  than  to  the  ig- 
norant, to  the  skilful  more  than  to  the  foolish.  Far  from 
it.  Were  this  the  case,  we  might  give  up  altogether  the 
use  of  means  for  the  attainment  of  our  ends,  or  be  ut- 
terly regardless  of  their  nature.  The  meaning  evidently 
is  no  more,  than  that,  with  all  a  man's  superiority,  suc- 
cess is  not  to  be  insured : — no  man  must  count  upon 
it  with  certainty. 

*'  Time  and  chance  happeneth  to  them  all." 

*'  Time." — There  are  favourable  and  unflivourable 

times  in  which  men's  lot  may  be  cast ;  and  such  times 

too  may  occur  alternately  in  the  experience  of  the  same 

individual.  A  man  of  very  inferior  talent,  should  he  fall 


-Jj30  *     LECTURE  xvni.    .         • 

on  a  favourable  time,  may  succeed  with  comparative 
ease ;  whereas  in  a  time  that  is*  not-  propitious,  abilities 
of  the  first  order  cannot  preserve  their  possessor  from, 
failure  and  disappointment.  And  even  the  same  period 
may  be  advaiytageous  to  one  de'scription  of  business, 
and  miserably  the  reverse  to  another ;  and  it  may  thus 
be  productive  of  prosperity  to  men  who  prosecute  the 
former,  and  of  loss  and  ruin  to  those  engaged  in  the 
latter  ;  although  the  superiority  in  knowledge,  capacity, 
andt  pru'dence,  may  be  all,  and  even  to  a  great,  degree, 
on  the  losing  sicte. 

"• "  Chance."-*- We  rnust  not  understand  Solomon  as 
intending  by  the*  use  of  this  word,  to  convey  the  idea 
that  there  is,  or  can  be,  any  thing  absolutely  fortuitous. 
The  reign  of  chance  can  never  be  more  than  imaginary. 
The  very  supposition  of  it  is  pregnant  alike  with  im- 
piety and  absurdity.  It  is  atheism.— Chance  is  a  term 
denoting  ignorance,  not  on  God's  part,  but  on  ours.  It 
has  been  happily  defined,  although  by  a  poet,  yet  with- 
out  a  poet's  fiction, — "  direction  which  we  cannot  see." 
The  blind  Goddess  of  Fortune  is  but  the  creation  of  a 
foolish  and  ungodly  fancy.  Widiout  our  Heavenly  Fa-^ 
ther,  "  a  sparrow  falleth  not  to  the  ground;"  and  no 
figure  could  more  strongly  express  the  idea  of  unre- 
mitted attention  to  the  minutest  interests  of  his  chil- 
dren, than  his  "  numbering  the  hairs  of  their  heads." 
*'  The  lot  is  cast  into  the  lap  ;  but  the  whole  disposing 
thereof  is  of  the  Lord." 

The  obvious  meaning  of  chance  here  is,  that  there  is 
an  endless  variety  of  circumstances  and  events,  which 
cannot  be  foreseen,  and  over  which,  therefore,  no  man 
can  have  any  control,  which  yet  must  materially  affect 
the  success  or  the  failure  of  all  his  schemes  and  opera- 
tions. These  "  secret  things"  which  "  belong  unto  the 


ECCLES.  IX.  11  — 18.  431 

,  Lord,"  appear  to  us  as  if  they  came  by  chance ;  and 
men  who  fear  not  God,  idly  talk  of  Fortune  favouring 

.  them  when  they  prosper,  and  of  .her  being  blind,  capri- 
cious, an'd  partial,  when  they  fail.  But  all  is  under  the 
supexintendence  of  Him  who  is  infinite  in  wisdom, 
power,  and  goodness.  And  even  with  regard  to  our- 
selves, it  is  going  too  far  to  represent  human  life  as  a 

•  perfect  lottery,  in  which  the  wheel  goes  round,  and 
blanks  and  priees  are  drawn  out,  without  discrimina- 
^tion  and  with  equal  frequency,  for  the  indolent  and  the 
active,  for  the  prudent  and  the  foolish ;  as  if-  indolence 
and  activity,  prudence  and  folly,  were  without  distinc- 
tion in  their  respecti.ve  tendencies.  There  is,  however, 
beyond  question,  as  universal  experience  evinces,  and 
as  the  present  times  impressively  testify,  a  vast  deal  of 
uncertainty  in  calculating  the  probabilities  of  a  man's 
success  in  any  pursuit.  Unanticipated  circumstances 
may  assign  the  laurel  to  the  slow,  and  leave  the  swift 
uncrowned  ;  may  give  victory  to  the  weak,  and  bring 
defeat  and  shame  to  the  strong ;  may  confer  riches  and 
favour  on  the  ignorant  and  indiscreet,  and  withhold 
them  from  the  wise,  the  skilful,  and  intelligent. — That 
"•chance"  must  have  this  restricted  meaning,  is  ob- 
vious :  for  even  if  it  were  understood  as  exclusive  of 
providence,  still  facts  could  never  bear  out  the  affirma- 
tion, that  there  are  no  distinctive  tendencies  in  different 
principles  and  modes  of  conduct,  and  that  it  is,  unquali*- 
ficdly,  all  one  as  to  the  result,  whether  a  man  be  dili- 
gent or  slothful,  prudent  or  insensate. 

The  sentiment  of  the  eleventh  verse  is  expanded  in 
the  twelfth : — "  For  a  man  also  knovveth  not  his  time : 
as  the  fishes  that  are  taken  in  an  evil  net,  and  as  the 
birds  (that  are)  caught  in  the  snare  ;   so  (are)  the  sons 


43S  LECTURE  XVIIl. 

of  men  snared  in  an  evil  time,  when  it  falleth  suddenly 
upon  them." 

"  Man  knowetji  not  his  time,"  refers  to  the  uncer- 
tainty of  events,  the  fickleness  of  human  affairs,  already- 
mentioned.  A  man  may  select  his  time  for  the  execu- 
tion of  any  purpose,  with  much  apparent  sagacity.  To 
others,  as  well  as  to  himself,  it  may  seem  .the  most  pro- 
mising that  could  have  been  chosen.  Yet  who  can, 
with  certainty,  tell  him  what  shall  be  ?  He  knoweth  not 
what  a  day  may  bring  forth.  The  wind  may  suddenly 
shift.  The  tide  may  unexpectedly  turn.  The  times  may 
surprise  him  by  an  unlooked  for  change.  He  may  cast 
his  seed  into  an  excellent  bed,  in  the  best  of  weather ; 
but  numberless  are  the  circumstances  that  may  blast  his 
hopes  of  a  harvest.  To-day  may  be  an  auspicious  time, 
and  his  prospects  may  be  brightened  by  the  splendour 
of  hope  :— to-morrow  may  be  unfavourable,  and  may 
cloud  them  with  the  darkness  of  despair.  In  this  world 
of  mutability,  he  must  always  plan  and  act  with  a  mea- 
sure of  uncertainty  ;  and  ought  to  preface  all  his  under- 
takings with — "  If  the  Lord  will." 

The  fishes  and  the  birds,  roaming  through  their  re- 
spective elements,  with  all  the  happy  agility  of  freedom, 
dart  suddenly  into  the  net  of  the  fisherman  and  the 
snare  of  the  fowler.  They  are  taken  by  surprise ;  taken, 
beyond  escape ;  and  taken,  to  be  destroyed.  "  So  (are) 
the  sons  of  men  snared  in  an  evil  time,  when  it  falleth 
suddenly  upon  them."  An  evil  time  is  a  time  of  mis- 
fortune and  calamity,  which  often  comes  unexpectedly, 
without  the  possibility  either  of  its  being  anticipated, 
or  of  its  mischievous  effects  being  shunned. 

There  is  one  most  important  time,  of  which  men  are 
left  in  total  ignorance ;  the  time  that  closes  their  con. 
nection  with  this  world,  terminating  all  their  schemesy 


ECCLES.  IX.   11 18.  433 

and  labours,  and  enjoyments,  and  prospects.  To  the 
ungodly,  this  is  indeed  "  an  evil  time,"  the  worst  of  all 
times:  and  how  often  has  it  "fallen  suddenly  upon 
them !"  How  often,  when  a  man  has  been  in  the  unin- 
terrupted course  of  his  prosperity,  rising  rapidly  to  the 
summit  of  his  wishes; — when  he  has  realized  his  for- 
tune, finished  his  house,  laid  out  his  lands,— and  is  say- 
ing to  his  soul,  "  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up 
for  many  years ;  take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  be 
merry," — is  he  "  snared  in  an  evil  time,"  and  in  a  mo- 
ment goes  down  to  the  grave  ! — "  O  that  men  were 
wise,  that  they  understood  this,  that  they  would  consi- 
der their  latter  end  !" 

His  general  observations,  Solomon  illustrates  by  a 
case,  which  we  may  suppose  to  have  been  a  matter  of 
fact  that  had  come  to  his  knowledge  :— Verses  13—16. 
"  This  wisdom  have  I  seen  also  under  the  sun,  and  it 
(seemed)  great  unto  me.  (There  was)  a  little  city,  and 
few  men  within  it ;  and  there  came  a  great  king  against 
it,  and  besieged  it,  and  built  great  bulwarks  against  it. 
Now  there  was  found  in  it  a  poor  wise  man,  and  he  by 
his  wisdom  delivered  the  city  ;  yet  no  man  remembered 
this  same  poor  man.  Then  said  I,  Wisdom  (is)  better 
than  strength ;  nevertheless,  the  poor  man's  wisdom  (is) 
despised,  and  his  words  are  not  heard." 

"  This  wisdom  seemed  great"  to  Solomon.  He  was 
delighted  with  it.  It  was  found  where  it  was  not  looked 
for.  The  governors  of  the  city,  the  public  functiona- 
ries, would  no  doubt  set  all  their  wits  to  work,  to  devise 
means  of  safety.  But  they  could  think  of  none  that  gave 
any  promise  of  proving  effectual.  They  were  at  a  stand; 
and  would  of  course  have  surrendered  at  discretion,  or 
have  perished  by  the  sword  of  exterminating  vengeance. 
In  this  emergency,  an  obscure,  unknown,  *'  poor  man, 
31 


434  LECTURE  XVIII, 

b)^  his  wisdom  saved  the  city,"  which  was  little  in  it- 
self, ill  defended,  and  quite  incapable  of  withstanding 
the  besieging  army  of  a  great  king. 

"  Yet  no  man  remembered  this  same  poor  man." — • 
The  danger  was  no  sooner  over,  than  he  was  ungrate- 
fully forgotten,  and  his  important  service  was  unre- 
warded.— "  Wisdom,"  on  this  occasion,  was  "  better 
than  strength,"  and  prevailed  against  it,  foiling  the- 
might  of  the  assailing  enemy.  But  the  honour  that  is 
due  to  wisdom  is  not  always  obtained  by  its  possessor. 
Had  this  wise  man  been  at  the  same  time  a  man  of  sta- 
tion and  wealth,  his  name  would  probably  have  been 
recorded  in  the  annals  of  the  city,  a  pillar  possibly 
reared  at  the  time  to  commemorate  his  service,  and  a 
monument  of  regret  erected  over  his  grave.  But  the 
man  was  poor ;  and  having  been  neglected  before,  he 
quickly  relapsed  into  his  original  obscurity.  "  His  wis- 
dom was  despised,  and  his  words  were  not  heard." 
They  rvere  indeed  heard ;  but  it  was  only  in  the  mo- 
ment of  danger  and  alarm.  Or,  for  aught  we  can  say, 
the  poor  man's  scheme  might  be  devised  and  executed 
by  himself,  done  secretly,  or  with  the  concurrence  and 
aid  of  a  few  more  of  his  own  station.  And  whether  this 
was  the  case,  or  whether  it  was  laid  before  the  chief 
men  of  the  city,  and  by  them  adopted,  the  effect  might 
be  envy,  and  consequent  studied  neglect.  For  although 
a  pressing  sense  of  immediate  danger  might  induce 
them  at  the  time  to  listen  to  and  follow  his  counsel,  it  might 
still  be  with  the  despicable  feelings  of  spiteful  jealousy; 
and  when  the  danger  was  past,  the  same  feelings  might 
induce  them  to  treat  with  neglect  the  poor  benefactor 
of  their  city ;  or  he  might  speedily  escape  their  memo- 
ries, as  *'  the  chief  butler,"  when  restored  to  his  hq- 
iiours,  "  remembered  not  Joseph,  but  forgot  him." 


ECCLES.  IX.  11  — 18.  435 

But  why  is  this  incident  introduced  here  ?  What  is 
its  connection  with  the  writer's  subject  ?  The  connec- 
tion is  far  from  being  distant.  It  presents  an  illustration, 
in  two  views,  of  the  sentiment  in  the  eleventh  verse.  It 
shows,  in  the  first  place,  that  "  the  battle  is  not  to  the 
strong."  A  mighty  monarch  came  against  this  small 
and  feeble  city,  invested  it,  and  constructed  his  works 
around  it.  Its  destruction  seemed  inevitable.  But  there 
happened  to  be  within  its  walls,  amongst  the  obscure 
part  of  its  population,  a  poor  man,  who  in  his  wisdom 
suggested  some  expedient,  which  baffled  the  exertions 
and  frustrated  the  hopes  of  the  enemy,  rendering  all  his 
engines  and  bulwarks  useless  and  unavailing.  This  little 
circumstance,  unforeseen  and  unexpected,  disconcerted 
the  whole  project,  and  gave  preservation  and  victory  to 
the  weak. — It  shows,  secondly,  that  "  favour  is  not  to 
men  of  skill." — It  does  not  appear,  it  is  true,  that  the 
poor  man  had  any  such  object  in  view  as  courting  fa- 
vour. But  he  displayed  wisdom  and  skill ;  and  he 
missed  their  merited  recompense.  His  poverty  and  ob- 
scurity, or  the  envy  of  those  in  power  and  station,  de- 
prived  him  of  his  due. 

There  seems,  at  first  view,  an  inconsistency  between 
the  end  of  the  sixteenth  verse  and  the  seventeenth.  In 
the  former  it  is  said,  "  The  poor  man's  wisdom  (is) 
despised,  and  his  words  are  not  heard  : — in  the  latter, 
^'The  words  of  wise  (men)  are  heard  in  quiet,  more 
than  the  cry  of  him  that  ruleth  among  fools." — In  the 
seventeenth  verse,  there  is  probably  a  reference  to  the 
quiet  way  in  which  this  "  poor  wise  man"  saved  the 
city.  We  may  suppose  him  to  have  communicated  his 
scheme  to  two  or  three  privately,  who  had  the  good 
sense  to  hear  him,  and  to  enter  into  his  views ;  and 
whilst  *'  the  cry  of  him  that  ruled  among  fools," — the 


436  LECTURE  XVIII. 

loud  and  blustering  bravadoes,  it  may  be,  of  a' sense- 
less and  headstrong  ruler,  were  not  only  unavailing, 
but  calculated  to  hasten  and  to  aggravate  the  ruin  of 
the  place, — the  wisdom  of  this  poor  man  was  '^  heard 
in  quiet,"  and  was  secredy,  and  without  noise  and  os- 
tentation, working  its  deliverance.— This  renders  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  verses  quite  consistent ;  the 
latter  referring  to  the  attention  shown  to  his  wise  sug- 
gestions at  the  time,  and  their  influence  in  effecting  the 
deliverance  of  the  city ;  and  the  former,  to  the  subse- 
quent disregard  of  the  man  himself  and  of  his  wisdom, 
when  the  threatening  danger  was  past, — the  indisposi- 
tion then  either  to  hear  or  to  profit  by  it,  or  to  give  re- 
spect and  honour  to  its  possessor. 

Verse  18.  "  Wisdom  (is)  better  than  weapons  of 
war:  but  one  sinner  destroyeth  much  good." 

In  the  instance  which  Solomon  had  just  adduced,  the 
truth  of  the  former  part  of  this  verse  had  been  illus- 
trated and  established.  Wisdom  had  proved  its  supe- 
riority to  military  weapons  and  warlike  engines,  for  it 
had  effectually  overcome  them ;  and  it  Had  thus  accom- 
plished what  forcible  resistance  would  have  attempted 
in  vain.  And  even  on  the  supposition  that  "  weapons 
of  war"  could  have  delivered  the  city,  still  it  must  have 
been  at  the  expense  of  blood,  and  of  varied  and  accu- 
mulated distress, — of  the  tortures  of  the  wounded,  and 
the  groans  of  the  dying,  and  the  tears  of  widows,  and 
orphans,  and  friends ; — all  which  was  prevented  by  the 
timely  exercise  of  wisdom. 

From  his  being  contrasted  with  one  "  sinner,"  wc 
are  naturally  led  to  consider  the  wise  man  as  not  only 
politically  sagacious  and  prudent,  but  wise  in  a  higher 
sense,— truly  good,  influenced  by  right  principles,  by 
motives  of  genuine  disinterested  benevolence,  by  re- 


ECCLES.  IX.  11 — isr.  437 

gard  to  the  will  of  God  and  the  obligations  of  duty,  sa- 
tisfied with  the  attainment  of  the  benefit  to  others,  with- 
out stopping  to  calculate  the  possible  results  to  himself. 
— This  one  wise  man  effected  much  good  :  but  ^'  one 
sinner  destroyeth  much  good."  It  is  fur  caiiier  to  do 
harm,  than  to  do  good.  And  one  wicked  man,  possessed 
of  a  little  mischievous  subtlety  and  address,  may,  and, 
alas !  often  does  succeed,  in  thwarting  and  frustrating 
the  best  concerted  schemes,  overturning  the  most  pru- 
dent arid  beneficial  regulations,  effectually  embarrassing 
the  wisdom  of  the  wise,  and  impeding  the  efforts  of  the 
benevolent,  and  thus  producing  the  most  serious  and 
incalculable  injury. 

The  influence  of  one  truly  wise  and  good  man  may 
be  very  extensive,  both  upon  the  temporal  and  the  spi- 
ritual condition  of  others, — in  preventing  evil,  and  in 
promoting  personal  and  social  happiness.  But  how 
much  good,  on  the  contrary,  may  not  one  sinner  de- 
stroy !  and  how  much  positive  evil  may  he  not  be  the 
instrument  of  'working !  How  often  has  such  a  man 
broken  the  peace  and  ruined  the  comfort  of  families, 
which  might  otherwise  have  remained  united  and  happy! 
How  often  has  he  sown  in  secret  the  seeds  of  jealousy 
and  discord  in  a  circle  of  friends  and  acquaintances ! 
How  often  fanned  the  flame  of  discontent,  sedition,  and 
rebellion,  in  a  community  enjoying  a  happy  measure 
of  peace,  freedom,  and  prosperity  !  How  often  has  he 
blasted  characters  by  defamation  and  slander,  and  thus 
marred  and  destroyed  extensive  usefulness !  How  often, 
by  falsehood  and  misrepresentation,  has  he  imposed  on 
others,  to  the  loss  of  their  property,  the  ruin  of  their 
affairs,  and  the  consequent  distress  of  themselves  and 
families !  How  often— But  time  would  fail  me  to  enu- 
merate all  the  ways  in  which  a  sinner  may  destroy 


438  LECTURE  XVIII. 

temporal  good. — Then,  when  we  think  of  the  good  he 
may  destroy,  and  the  evil  he  may  occasion,  of  a  spiri- 
tual kind,  how  weightily  must  the  observation  be  felt 
by  every  serious  mind  !  By  plausible  and  sophistical, 
but  palatable  and  seductive  reasonings,  he  may  shake 
and  root  out  the  half-formed  principles  of  the  unesta- 
blished  inquirer,  acting  as  Satan's  instrument  in  "catch- 
ing away  what  has  been  sown  in  his  heart ;"  by  his  ex- 
ample, his  counsel,  his  sneers,  and  his  flatteries,  by 
adorning,  in  captivating  and  alluring  colours,  the  plea- 
sures of  sin,  touching  by  ridicule  the  feelings  of  false 
pride,  representing  as  unreasonable  the  restraints  of  re- 
ligion and  virtue,  praising  the  spirit,  and  working  on 
the  vanity,  of  his  victim,  he  may  successfully  entice 
the  young  and  unwary  to  criminal  indulgence,  and  may 
thus  baffle  the  efforts,  and  balk  the  delighted  hopes,  of 
godly  parents.  He  may  take  a  malignant  pleasure  in 
plying  his  arts  of  temptation  upon  the  more  established, 
and  he  may  exult  in  the  desolating  effects  of  his  occa- 
sional success, — when  a  godly  man  has  been  entangled 
in  his  snares,  or  has  tripped  and  fallen  over  any  of  his 
stumbling-blocks,  and  has  thus  offended  the  church  of 
God,  opened  the  mouths  of  the  profane  to  scorn  and 
blasphemy,  and  hardened  the  infidel  in  his  unbelief,  and 
the  transgressor  in  his  course  of  sin.  He  may  set  him- 
self down  as  a  centre  of  contagion,  and  may  spread  all 
around  him  a  moral  and  spiritual  pestilence,  counter- 
working all  the  purifying,  salubrious,  and  life-giving 
efforts  of  piety  and  benevolence,  of  parental  solicitude, 
ministerial  zeal,  and  private  philanthropy.  The  corrup- 
tion of  one  may  spread  to  ten  ;  of  ten  to  a  hundred ',  of 
a  hundred  to  a  thousand.  And  it  goes  down  through 
succeeding  generations.  The  corrupted  father  commu- 
«icaies  the  taint  to  his  children;  and  they  again  to  theirs. 


ECCLES.  IX.   11 18.  439 

So  that  the  pernicious  influence  of  "  one  sinner"  that 
lived  in  the  time  of  Solomon,  may  be  widely  felt,  though 
it  cannot  be  traced,  even  at  the  present  day  ;  and  the 
mischief  of  one  destroyer  of  good  amongst  ourselves, 
may  continue  and  increase  to  the  very  close  of  time ! 
My  Christian  brethren,  let  us  bear  in  mind,  that  this 
infectious  nature  of  sin  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  we 
are  admonished  to  attend  to  the  purity  of  fellowship  in 
the  church  of  God. — "  Know  ye  not,  that  a  little  leaven 
leaveneth  the  whole  lump  ?  Purge  out,  therefore,  the 
old  leaven,  that  ye  may  be  a  new  lump,  as  ye  are  un- 
leavened. For  even  Christ,  our  passover,  is  sacrificed 
for  us.  Therefore,  let  us  keep  the  feast,  not  with  old 
leaven,  neither  v/ith  the  leaven  of  malice  and  wicked- 
ness, but  with  the  unleavened  (bread)  of  sincerity  and 
truth."*  "  Looking  diligently,  lest  any  man  fail  of  the 
grace  of  God  :  lest  any  root  of  bitterness,  springing  up, 
trouble  (you,)  and  thereby  many  (be)  defiled. "f — O 
let  us  beware  of  ever  fancying  there  can  be  safety, 
where  the  Lord  has  declared  there  is  danger.  We  are 
not  sufficiently  impressed  with  the  deceitfulness  of  our 
own  hearts,  when  we  entertain  such  a  thought.  Let  us 
ever  cherish  humility  and  self-vigilance  ;  and  see  to  it, 
that  we  ourselves  be  promoters  and  not  destroyers  of 
good.  Let  us,  at  the  same  time,  in  the  united  exercise 
of  Christian  love  and  Christian  faithfulness,  guard 
against  the  wilful  admission  of  corruption,  the  volun- 
tary implanting  of  "roots  of  bitterness;"  and  when 
corruption  has  been  unwittingly  received,  and  has  sufcr^ 
sequently  discovered  itself,  let  us  beware  of  its  pre- 
sumptuous retention,  in  open-eyed  disobedience  to  the 
will  of  Christ,  self-sufficient  insensibility  to  our  own 
danger,  and  disregard  of  the  honour  of  his  name. 

*  1  Cor.  V.  6—8,  t  Heb.  xii.  1  J. 


410  LECTURE  XVllI. 

Although  there  are  principles  in  our  nature,  as  fallen 
creatures,  which  render  the  work  of  the  sinner,  in  doing 
evil  and  destroying  good,  much  more  easy  than  that  of 
the  wise  man  in  promoting  good  and  repressing  evil, 
yet  let  us  be  encouraged  in  all  our  benevolent  labours, 
especially  those  for  the  spiritual  benefit  of  other's,  by 
considering  the  extent  of  possible  advantage  from  suc- 
cess in  a  single  instance.  The  seduction  of  one  is  fear- 
ful, both  in  itself,  and  in  the  sad  train  of  consequences 
that  may  arise  from  it.  But  let  us  not  forget  how  valua- 
ble, in  itself  and  in  its  possible  results,  is  the  conver- 
sion and  salvation  of  one.  "  If  any  of  you  do  err  from  the 
truth,  and  one  convert  him,  let  him  know,  that  he  who 
converteth  the  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  way,  shall 
save  a  soul  from  death,  and  shall  hide  a  multitude  of 
sins."  Even  if  the  good  stopped  here,  it  would  be  in- 
estimably precious ;  for  "  what  is  a  man  profited,  if  he 
should  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul  ? 
or  what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul  ?" 
But  think  of  the  influence  of  this  individual  on  others, 
in  the  family,  in  the  circle  of  relatives  and  friends,  and 
in  the  neighbourhood  to  which  he  belongs;  and, 
through  them,  on  successive  generations  to  the  end  of 
time.  "  He  established  a  testimony  in  Jacob,  and  ap- 
pointed a  law  in  Israel,  which  he  commanded  our  fa- 
thers that  they  should  make  them  known  unto  their 
children  ;  that  the  generation  to  come  might  know 
(them,  even)  the  children  (who)  should  be  born,  (who) 
should  arise  and  declare  (them)  to  their  children  ;  that 
they  might  set  their  hope  in  God,  and  not  forget  the 
works  of  God,  but  keep  his  commandments."* — How 
animating  is  the  thought,  (and  there  is  no  enthusiastic 
extravagance  in  it,)  that  the  good  we  now  do  may  continue 

*  rsal.  Ixxviii.  5 — 7. 


ECCLES.  IX.   11 18.  44.1 

to  be  felt,  and  felt  in  a  constantly  widening  circle,  till  the 
last  trumpet  shall  sound  !— that  one  sinner  brought  back 
to  God  may,  for  aught  we  can  tell,  prove,  in  course  of 
time,  the  salvation  of  thousands  !  The  solitary  seed  that 
has  yielded  thirty,  sixty,  or  a  hundred  fold,  stops  not 
there.  Each  of  the  grains  of  its  produce  may  yield  the 
same  ;  and  field  must  be  added  to  field  to  receive  the 
accumulating  increase. — L^t  parents,  let  ministers,  let 
sabbath-school  teachers,  let  all  in  their  respective  spheres 
of  spiritual  influence,  be  stimulated  by  such  considera- 
tions to  lively  and  persevering  exertions,  and  to  the 
seizure  of  every  opportunity,  on  which  prudence  lays 
not  an  evident  interdict,  of  "  seeking  the  profit  of  others 
that  they  may  be  saved." 

Let  us  further  learn  from  this  passage,  to  beware  of 
self-dependence.  If  *'  the  race  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor 
the  battle  to  the  strong,"  then  ought  the"  admonition  to 
be  obeyed,  as  the  dictate  of  Divine  wisdom  as  well  as 
tlie  injunction  of  Divine  authority, — "Trust  in  the 
Lord  with  all  thy  heart,  and  lean  not  unto  thine  own 
understanding.  In  all  thy  ways  acknowledge  Him,  and 
he  shall  direct  thy  paths."  Fully  assured,  that  although 
to  us  the  future  is  uncertain,  and  events  that  have  been 
unanticipated  n\i\y  to  our  minds  seem  accidental,  there 
is  no  such  thing  as  chance  or  fatalism,  but  that  all  things 
are  under  the  immediate  and  unceasing  superintendence 
of  an  all-wise  providence,  let  us  consider  it  as  our  part 
t»  tise  means,  to  look  to  God  for  his  blessing,  and  to 
leave  the  issue  in  his  hands.  This  state  of  mind  is  the 
most  consistent  at  once  with  duty  and  with  happiness. 
It  keeps  the  spirit  tranquil ;  disposed  to  gratitude  for 
success,  and  at  the  same  time  prepared  for  possible  dis- 
appointment j  "the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all 
understanding,  keeping  the  heart  and  mind  by  Christ 
3  K 


44g  lecture;  xviii. 

Jesus."  As  we  ought  not  to  "  boast  of  to-morrow,  be- 
cause we  know  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth ;"  so 
neither  should  we  be  over-anxious  about  to-morrow, 
because  we  may  be  distressing  ourselves  about  what 
we  are  never  to  see.  How  beautiful,  how  affectionate, 
how  persuasive,  and  how  full  of  argument,  the  Saviour^s 
exhortations  to  his  disciples  against  all  anxious  concern 
about  the  future  days  of  life  !  '^  Wherefore  I  say  unto 
you,  Take  no  thought  for  your  life,  what  ye  shall  eat, 
or  what  ye  shall  drink  ;  nor  yet  for  your  body,  what  ye 
shall  put  on.  Is  not  the  life  more  than  meat,  and  the 
body  than  raiment  ?  Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air ;  for 
they  sow  not,  neither  do  they  reap,  nor  gather  into 
barns ;  yet  your  heavenly  Father  feedeth  them.  Are 
not  ye  much  better  than  they  ?  Which  of  you,  by  tak- 
ing thought,  can  add  one  cubit  unto  his  stature  ?  And 
why  take  ye  thought  for  raiment  ?  Consider  the  lilies 
of  the  field,  how  they  grow  ;  they  toil  not,  neither  do 
they  spin  :  and  yet  I  say  unto  you,  that  even  Solomon, 
in  all  his  glory,  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these. 
Wherefore,  if  God  so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field, 
which  to-day  is,  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the  oven, 
(shall  he)  not  much  more  (clothe)  you,  O  ye  of  little 
faith  ?  Therefore  take  no  thought,  saying,  What  shall 
we  eat  ?  or.  What  shall  we  drink  ?  or.  Wherewithal 
shall  we  be  clothed  ?  [for  after  all  these  things  do  the 
Gentiles  seek  ;]  for  your  heavenly  Father  knoweth  that 
ye  have  need  of  all  these  things.  But  seek  ye  first  the 
kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteousness  ;  and  all  these 
things  shall  be  added  unto  you.  Take,  therefore,  no 
thought  for  the  morrow ;  for  the  morrow  shall  take 
thought  for  the  things  of  itself.  Sufficient  unto  the  day 
(is)  the  evil  thereof."* 

*  Matt.  vi.  25—34. 


ECCLES.  IX.  11  — 18.  443 

And  whilst  we  learn  the  lesson  of  dependence  on 
God  respecting  all  our  temporal  interests,  let  us  be 
equally  on  our  guard  against  depending  on  ourselves 
in  our  Christian  course,  in  our  spiritual  warfare, — in 
"running  the  race  set  before  us," — in  "  fighting  the 
good  fight  of  faith."  Our  speed  in  the  one,  our  cou- 
rage and  strength  in  the  other,  and  our  victory  in  both, 
must  come  from  above.  Divesting  ourselves  of  all  self- 
confidence,  let  our  trust  be  in  Him  who  "  giveth  power 
to  the  faint,  and  to  (them  that  have)  no  might  increaseth 
strength.  Even  the  youths  shall  faint  and  be  weary,  and 
the  young  men  shall  utterly  fall :  but  they  that  wait  upon 
the  Lord  shall  renew  (their)  strength';  they  shall  mount 
up  with  wings  as  eagles ;  they  shall  run,  and  not  be 
weary ;  they  shall  walk,  and  not  faint."* 

Further :  It  is  the  part  of  true  wisdom  to  be  prepared, 
as  far  as  its  precautions  can  reach,  against  possible  emer- 
gencies. Let  none  of  you,  then,  count  upon  life,— no, 
not  for  an  hour ; — for  "  man  knoweth  not  his  time." 
Death  is  at  once  the  most  certain  and  the  most  uncer- 
tain of  all  things.  It  must  come ;  but  when^  or  how^  O 
who  shall  tell  us  ?  Every  one  of  us  has  his  "  time," 
fixed  in  the  purpose  of  Him  who  "  appoints  us  our 
bounds,  that  we  cannot  pass."  How  awful  will  it  be, 
if  that  time  come  upon  any  of  you  unawares  ! — if,  *'  as 
the  fishes  are  taken  in  an  evil  net,  and  the  birds  are 
caught  in  the  snare,"  so  you  should  be  *'  snared  in  an 
evil  time,"  by  its  "  falling  suddenly  upon  you."  Ah  ! 
then  will  it  be  to  you  an  evil  time  indeed !  O  ye  care- 
less children  of  men,  who  are  treading  every  moment 
on  the  verge  of  eternity,  trifle  no  longer  with  its  infi- 
nitely weighty  concerns ;  lest  it  should  be  with  you  as 
it  was  with  the  incredulous  and  infatuated  antedilu- 

*  Isa.xl.  29— 31. 


444  LECTURE  XVIII. 

vians,  who  scorned  the  warning  voice  of  the  "  preacher 
of  righteousness."  They  were  "  eating  and  drinking, 
marrying  and  giving  in  marriage,  until  the  day  that 
Noah  entered  into  the  ark  ;  and  knew  not  until  the 
flood  came,  and  took  them  all  av/ay."  Beware,  then, 
lest  while  you  "  say,  Peace  and  safety,  sudden  destruc- 
tion should  come  upon  you  !"  "  What  meanest  thou, 
O  sleeper?  Arise,  and  call  upon  thy  God"  to  save  thee 
from  the  gathering  storm ;  for  the  elements  are  con- 
spiring thy  ruin.  Think  not  to  brave  it.  Speed  thee  to 
the  Ark  which  he  has  provided  for  thy  security,  and 
where  alone  thou  canst  be  safe.  Come  to  Jesus.  Make 
him  thy  refuge.  All  shall  then  be  well, — all  safe, — safe 
for  eternity. 

And  ye,  brethren  in  the  Lord,  join  to  the  lesson  of 
dependence  on  God,  the  lesson  of  sleepless  vigilance. 
It  was  not  to  men  of  the  world,  but  even  to  his  own  dis- 
ciples, that  Christ  addressed  the  warning,  "  Take  heed, 
lest  at  any  time  your  hearts  be  overcharged  with  sur- 
feiting and  drunkenness,  and  the  cares  of  this  life,  and 
so  that  day  come  upon  you  unawares."  "  Be  ye,  there- 
fore, sober,  and  watch  unto  prayer."  Be  ever  at  your 
respective  posts,  in  the  service  of  your  Master :  and 
then,  although  you  know  not  the  time  of  his  coming,  it 
will  never  be  to  you  "an  evil  time."  Whether  he  ar- 
rive "  at  even,  or  at  midnight,  or  at  cock-crowing,  or 
in  the  morning,"  let  him  find  you  watching. 

In  occupying  your  talents  for  the  glory  of  God  and 
for  the  good  of  men,  you  may  not  always  meet  from  the 
latter  with  a  suitable  return.  This  ^'poor  wise  man, 
who  by  his  wisdom  delivered  the  city,"  had  he  been 
again  placed  in  similar  circumstances,  might  have  been 
tempted  to  consult  his  own  preservation  only,  and  to 
leave  those  who  had  so  ungratefully  neglected  and 


ECCLES.  IX.  H  — 18.  445 

scorned  him,  to  shift  for  themselves.  This  would  have 
been  the  conduct  dictated  by  the  ordinary  principles 
prevalent  in  the  world.  But  the  Bible  teaches  a  lesson 
more  disinterested  and  generous.  We  roust  not  be 
"  weary  in  well-doing,"  even  to  those  from  whom  we 
may  have  met  with  a  sorry  recompense.  Let  your  eye 
be  directed,  not  to  men,  but  to  him  who  "  is  not  un- 
righteous, to  forget  your  work  and  labour  of  love, 
which  ye  show  toward  his  Name;"  and  his  example  is 
to  be  the  model  from  which  you  are  to  copy : — **  Love 
your  enemies,  bless  them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to 
them  that  hate  you,  and  pray  for  them  who  despitefully 
use  you,  and  persecute  you ;  that  ye  may  be  the  chil- 
dren of  your  Father  who  is  in  heaven  :  for  he  maketh 
his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good,  and  sendeth 
rain  on  the  just  and  on  the  unjust.  For  if  ye  love  them 
who  love  you,  what  reward  have  ye  ?  do  not  even  the 
publicans  the  same?  And  if  ye  salute  your  brethren 
only,  what  do  ye  more  (than  others  ?)  do  not  even  the 
publicans  so?  Be  ye  therefore  perfect,  even  as  your 
Father  who  is  in  heaven  is  perfect."* 

*  Matt,  V,  44—48. 


LECTURE  XIX. 


ECCLES.  X.    1 10. 

1  "  Dead  Jlies  cause  the  ointment  of  the  afiothccary  to  send  forth  a 
stinking  savour:  fso  doth  J  a  little  folly  him  that  is  in  re/tutation 

2  for  ivisdom  (and J  honour.    A  ivise  man's  heart  (is J  at  his  right 

3  hand  ;  but  afooPs  heart  at  his  left.  Yea  also,  when  he  that  is  a  fool 
nvalketh  by  the  ivay,  his  wisdom  faileth  (him,  J  and  he  saith  to  every 

4  one  (that)  he  (is  J  a  fool.    If  the  spirit  of  the  ruler  rise  up.  against 

5  thee,  leave  not  thy  place  ;  for  yielding  pacifeth  great  offences.  There 
is  an  evil  (which  J  I  have  seen  under  the  sun,  as  an  error  ("which) 

6  proccedeth  from  the  ruler  ;  Folly  is  set  in  great  dignity,  and  the 

7  rich  sit  in  low  place.  I  have  seen  servants  upon  horses,  and  princes 

8  walking  as  servants  upon  the  earth.  He  that  diggeth  a  pit  shall  fall 

9  into  it ;  and  whoso  breaketh  a  hedge,  a  serpent  shall  bite  him.  Whoso 
rcmoveth  stones  shall  be  hurt  therewith ;  (and)  he  that  cleaveth 

10  wood  shall  be  endangered  thereby.  Jf  the  iron  be  blunt,  and  he  do 
not  whet  the  edge,  then  must  he  put  to  more  strength  :  but  wisdom 
(is)  profitable  to  direct." 


xIaving  spoken  of  the  excellence  of  wisdom,  Solo- 
mon here  proceeds  to  lay  down  certain  maxims,  rela- 
tive both  to  its  advantages,  and  to  the  mode  of  its 
exercise. 

The  first  of  these  is  an  observation  founded  in  uni- 
versal experience,  and  arising  both  from  the  nature  of 
the  thing,  and  from  the  corruption  of  the  human  heart : 
—Verse  1.  "  Dead  flies  cause  the  ointment  of  the  apo- 
thecary to  send  forth  a  stinking  savour ;  (so  doth)  a 
little  folly  him  that  is  in  reputation  for  wisdom  (and) 
honour." 

When  the  apothecary  has  compounded  his  ointment, 
of  the  richest  and  sweetest  ingredients,  with  much  skill, 


ECCLES.  X.  1 — 10.  447 

and  care,  and  time ;  if  flies  fall  into  it,  and  die  there, 
and  putrify,  especially  in  a  hot  climate,  they  will  de- 
stroy its  pleasant  fragrance,  and  produce  an  oftensivc 
stench.  So,  when  a  man  has  acquired  a  high  reputation 
for  wisdom,  and  an  honourable  character,  the  higher  he 
rises  in  public  estimation,  the  more  cautious  and  guard- 
ed he  requires  to  become  in  his  behaviour :  for  "  a  lit- 
tle folly"  will  mar,  and  may  even  ruin  his  good  name ; 
and  bring  him  to  neglect  and  disgrace.  As  dead  flies 
spoil  the  sweet  odour  of  the  ointment,  so  doth  "  a  little 
folly,"  a  remaining  foible,  a  comparatively  trifling  in- 
consistency, or  even  an  occasional  slip,  aftect  the  cha- 
racter of  the  man  who  "  is  in  reputation  for  wisdom 
(and)  honour." 

The  causes  of  this  do  not  lie  deep. 

In  the  first  place.  In  proportion  to  the  height  of  a 
man's  reputation,  he  attracts  notice.  The  eyes  of  others 
are  upon  him.  The  fool  passes  unheeded;  nobody  mind- 
ing what  he  says  or  what  he  does.  But  when  a  person 
rises  to  eminence,  his  behaviour  is  marked.  It  becomes 
the  subject  of  scrutiny  and  of  conversation.  An  im- 
portance attaches  to  whatever  he  is,  or  says,  or  does. 
And  the  more  eyes  are  fastened  on  a  man,  the  less 
likely  is  any  infirmity  or  fault  to  escape  detection  and 
animadversion.  "  A  city  that  is  set  oil  a  hill  cannot  he 
hid." 

Secondly.  The  higher  a  man's  reputation  is,  the  more 
is  expected  of  him.  The  less  allowance,  consequently, 
is  made  for  his  failings.  That  which  in  an  ordinary  man 
would  have  passed  unobserved,  is  noticed  in  him  with 
surprise  and  astonishment.  Instead  of  his  defects  being 
lost,  like  the  spots  in  the  sun,  amid  the  blaze  of  his  ex- 
cellences, the  very  light  of  his  virtues  serves  to  give 
them  relief  and  prominence  ;  so  that  they  are  in  great 


448  LECTURE  XIX. 

danger  of  proving  a  counterbalance  to  all  his  estimable 
qualities. 

Thirdly.  This  danger  is  ten  fold  increased  by  the 
influence  of  a  principle,  which,  (alas  for  human  nature  !) 
is  too  welcome  a  guest,  too  close  an  inmate  in  our  bo- 
soms, and  of  which  we  had  occasion,  in  a  former  lec- 
ture, to  expose  the  odious  nature  and  mischievous 
effects, — I  mean  spite  and  envy.  It  is  the  malevolent 
wish  of  envy,  to  keep  down  a  rising  character  to  the 
common  level.  We  are  mortified  by  the  superiority  of 
others,  especially  if,  by  talent  and  diligence,  they  have 
passed  ourselves  in  the  race  and  left  us  behind  them. 
It  is  its  aim  and  business,  both  to  depreciate  the  merits, 
and  to  magnify  the  faults,  of  its  objects ;  and  eagerly 
does  it  avail  itself  of  "  a  little  folly,"  marking  it  with 
hawk-eyed  keenness,  exposing  and  exaggerating  it, 
setting  it  in  the  most  unfavourable  lights,  associating 
it  slily  and  malignantly  with  each  of  the  person's  ex- 
cellences, not  so  as  to  hide  it  by  means  of  them,  but  to 
disparage  them  by  means  of  it,  and  in  every  way  im- 
proving it  to  the  discredit  and  the  ruin  of  his  reputation. 

Such  being  the  case,  the  obvious  improvement  which 
should  be  made  of  it  by  "  the  man  who  is  in  reputation 
for  wisdom  (and)  honour,"  is,  to  "  ponder  the  path  of 
his  feet," — to  be  very  circumspect  and  very  consistent. 
This  he  ought  to  aim  at  with  unremitting  vigilance,  not 
only  for  his  own  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  his  useful- 
ness, in  the  employment  of  his  wisdom  and  influence, 
for  the  good  of  men,  and  for  the  glory  of  God ;  his 
power  to  do  good  being  necessarily  proportioned  to 
the  esteem  in  which  he  is  held. 

Solomon's  next  observation  regards  the  advantage 
of  the  wise  man  over  the  fool,  in  the  management  of 
all  descriptions  of  business :— Verses  2,  3.  *'  A  wise 


ECCLE^.  X.   1 10.  440 

man's  heart  (is)  at  his  right  hand  ;  but  a  fooPs  heart  is 
at  his  left.   Yea,  also,  when  he  that  is  a  fool  walketh  by 
the  way,  his  wisdom  faileth  (him,)  and  he  saith  to  every 
*one  (that)  he  (is)  a  fool." 

It  is  evident  from  the  connection,  that  the  heart  in 
this  place,  as  in  many  other  instances  in  the  Scriptures, 
means  iht  judgment  or  understanding  of  man.  It  is  the 
same  word  that,  in  the  third  verse,  is  rendered  wisdom  ; 
**His  wisdom  faileth  him,"  being,  in  the  original,  '^his 
heart  faileth  him."— The  "  right  hand"  is  the  hand 
which  men  usually  employ,  in  works  both  of  labour 
and  of  skill ;  and  which  they  use  with  the  greatest  rea- 
diness, dexterity,  and  success.  The  expression,  there- 
fore, in  the  second  verse,  "  A  wise  man's  heart  (is)  at 
his  right  hand,  but  a  fool's  heart  is  at  his  left,"— seems 
to  xu^dXi— First.  Tliat  a  wise  man  minds  his  own  proper 
business;  whereas  the  fool  neglects  what  belongs  to 
himself,  and  is  exceedingly  officious,  intermeddling, 
and  full  of  sagacious  counsel,  in  every  one's  concerns 
but  his  own.  Any  wisdom  he  has  is  "  at  his  left  hand :" 
it  is  applied  in  the  wrong  place. — Secondly.  The  under- 
standing of  the  wise  man  is  at  all  times  ready  for  his 
immediate  direction, — ^<  at  his  right  hand."  So  that, 
being  steadily  applied  to  its  proper  business,  it  is  pre- 
pared to  meet  times  of  emergency,  and  to  act  as  cir- 
cumstances direct,  so  as  not  to  ruin  or  even  injure  his 
affairs,  either  by  imprudent  precipitation  or  unnecessary 
delay.  The  fool,  on  the  contrary,  is  ever  uncertain,  ever 
at  a  loss,  all  hesitation  and  perplexity.  His  wisdom  is 
always  to  seek.  It  is  never  to  be  found  at  home  ;  but  is 
continually  roaming  abroad  among  a  thousand  matters 
with  which  he  has  nothing  to  do  ;  so  that,  in  his  own 
proper  concerns  he  is  incessantly  taken  at  unawares^ 
startled,  disconcerted,  stupified ;  and  the  moment  of 
3L 


450  LECTURE  XIX. 

needful  action  being  lost,  his  affairs  are  irretrievably 
disordered. — Thirdly.  That  which  the  wise  man  does, 
his  wisdom  enables  him  to  do  xvell—\\\\\\  skill  and  dex- 
terity—-{■a.  word  derived  from  the  very  circumstance 
of  the  right  hand  being  the  hand  of  promptitude  and 
skill,)*— whereas  the  fool,  when  he  does  any  thing  at  all, 
does  it  with  his  left  hand ;  not  only  applying  any  little 
fragments  of  wisdom  he  may  possess,  in  a  wrong  direc- 
tion, but  bungling,  blundering,  and  failing,  even  in  that 
which  he  attempts. 

The  fool  has  not  even  so  much  wisdom  as  to  conceal 
his  folly.  "  When  he  walketh  by  the  way,"— that  is,  in 
the  whole  of  his  ordinary  intercourse  with  men, — in  the 
daily  concerns  of  common  life, — "  his  wisdom  faileth 
him,  and  he  saith  to  every  one  that  he  is  a  fool."  He 
cannot  meet  a  neighbour  on  the  road  without  making 
an  exposure  of  his  folly.  By  some  ridiculous  speech  or 
out-of-the-way  action,  he  makes  the  vacancy  or  the  dis- 
tortion of  his  mind  as  apparent  as  if  he  were  to  say  to 
every  one  "  I  am  a  fool."  He  blabs  out  imprudently 
and  inconsiderately  what  he  does  know,  without  regard 
to  time,  place,  or  company  ;  or  he  talks  ignorantly  and 
absurdly  of  what  he  does  not  know.  By  his  words,  by 
his  actions,  or  by  his  manner  in  both,  he  tells  to  all  his 
folly,  exposing  himself  to  the  pity  of  some,  and  to  the 
contempt  and  derision  of  others.  Nobody  respects  him  ; 
nobody  can  place  any  dependence  upon  him,  or  com- 
mit any  business  to  his  care. 

The  fourth  verse  contains  one  of  the  counsels  of  wis- 
dom : — "  If  the  spirit  of  the  ruler  rise  up  against  thee, 
leave  not  thy  place  ;  for  yielding  pacifieth  great  of- 
fences." It  is  very  similar  to  the  advice  in  chap.  viii.  3. 
*'  Be  not  hasty  to  go  out  of  his  sight ;  stand  not  in  an 
evil  thing  ;  for  he  doeth  whatsoever  pleaseth  him." 

*  Latin— Dexter. 


ECCLES.  X.   1 10.  451 

The  case  brought  before  us  is  that  of  a  real  or  sup- 
posed foult  on  the  part  of  a  subject,  by  which  the  anger 
of  his  prince  has  been  excited. — In  such  circumstances, 
a  proud  and  hasty  fool  would  instantly  throw  up  his 
place,  avow  himself  a  rebel,  and  endanger  his  head. 
Wisdom  will  act  a  different  part.  "  Leave  not  thy 
place  :"— do  not  rashly  and  passionately  quit  the  prince's 
presence  and  renounce  his  service.  If  you  have  com- 
mitted the  fault,  frank  and  ingenuous  confession  is 
more  than  your  interest, — it  is  your  incumbent  duty. 
If  you  have  not,  yield  a  little  in  the  mean  time,  and 
take  a  more  favourable  opportunity  afterwards,  when 
**the  spirit  of  the  ruler"  is  calmer,  and  more  disposed 
to  listen  to  reason  and  right,  of  clearing  your  character, 
and  establishing  your  innocence.  Do  not  argue  with 
an  angry  man ;  and  least  of  all  with  an  angry  prince. 
Let  him  have  time  to  cool.  *'  Yielding  pacifieth  great 
offences."  It  settles  them,  and  brings  them  to  rest. 
There  is  a  vast  deal  more  to  be  gained  by  meekness 
and  gentleness,  and  by  a  little  calm  prudence  and  ma- 
nagement, than  by  resentful  and  intemperate  violence. 

Rulers,  it  is  acknowledged  by  the  Royal  Preacher, 
do  not  always  conduct  themselves  agreeably  to  the  dic- 
tates of  true  wisdom,  or  in  a  manner  in  all  respects  cal- 
culated to  fix  the  affectionate  regards  of  their  subjects. 
One  evil,  fitted  to  give  occasion  for  much  envy  and 
jealousy,  contempt  and  wrath,  he  specifies  in  verses  5 
—7  :  "  There  is  an  evil  (which)  I  have  seen  under  the 
sun,  as  an  error  (which)  proceedeth  from  the  ruler.  Folly 
is  set  in  great  dignity,  and  the  rich  sit  in  low  place.  I 
have  seen  servants  upon  horses,  and  princes  walking  as 
servants  upon  the  earth." 

The  evil  which  is  animadverted  on  in  these  words 
is  the  capricious  and  unreasonable  advancement  of  igno- 


45S  LECTURE  XIX. 

rant  and  incapable  minions  from  a  low  to  a  high  station, 
from  inferiority  and  subjection  to  eminence  and  au- 
thority ;  whilst  the  nobles  of  the  land,  who,  from  their 
birth,  and  wealth,  and  influence,  might  be  supposed 
destined  to  high  place,  and  by  their  education,  and  the 
study  of  the  law,  and  government,  and  politics  of  their 
country,  qualified  for  elevation  and  rule,  are  overlooked 
and  degraded,  being  set  beneath  the  indigent,  and  empty, 
and  despicable  upstart ;  so  that  while  a  servant, — or 
rather  a  slave, — rides  in  all  the  pomp  of  pageantry  and 
state,  princes  and  nobles  walk— as  his  inferiors  and  at- 
tendants,— on  foot.  This  was  far  from  being  a  very  un- 
common case,  under  the  despotic  governments  of  the 
East ;  slaves  of  the  palace  being  not  unfrequently,  from 
caprice,  partiality,  or  secret  selfishness,  advanced  to  the 
highest  ranks,  to  look  down,  in  haughty  supercilious- 
ness, on  their  natural  and  deserving  superiors. 

The  passage  is  not  to  be  interpreted  as  if  it  pre- 
cluded men  of  low  degree  from  mounting  by  their  own 
merit,  gradually  and  fairly,  by  successive  steps  of  ad- 
vancement, even  to  the  highest  and  most  honourable 
offices  of  the  state.  The  evil  consists  in  elevating  the 
low,  not  merely  from  a  low  station,  but  from  such  a 
station  accompanied  with  incapacity : — "  Folly  is  set 
in  great  dignity."  Uneducated,  inexperienced,  narrow- 
minded  and  imprudent  men,  as  low  in  mental  character 
jas  base  in  birth  and  in  station,  are  suddenly  exalted  to 
superiority  and  power,  by  senseless  or  unprincipled 
favouritism.  Such  men  have  disgraced  their  unseemly 
dignity,  by  mean,  mercenary,  imperious,  rash,  and 
ruinous  misconduct.  For,  in  most  instances,  such  up- 
starts in  the  state,  turn  out  not  merely  fools,  but  inso- 
lent an4  overbearing  tyrants. 

!^any  a  time  has  such  conduct  brought  shame  and 


ECCLES.  X.  1 10.  453 

ruin,  not  on  the  favourite  himself  only,  but  on  his  im- 
prudent master,  accompanied  sometimes  also  with  seri- 
ous calamity  to  the  state  :  and  the  language  of  the  fol- 
lowing verse  might  be  considered  as  referring  to  the 
foolishness  of  such  a  ruler ;  who,  in  degrading  his  no- 
bles, and  exalting  his  unworthy  minion,  digs  a  pit  for 
himself : --Verse  8.  "  He  that  diggeth  a  pit  shall  fall 
into  it ;  and  whoso  breaketh  a  hedge,  a  serpent  shall 
bite  him." 

The  eighth,  ninth,  and  tenth  verses,  however,  taken 
together,  may  be  more  naturally  interpreted,  as  a  cau- 
tion against  rash,  inconsiderate  rebellion, — precipitate, 
ill-advised,  ill-concerted,  and  ill-conducted  attempts,  to 
overturn  or  to  alter  the  established  government  of  a 
country.  Such  attempts  can  never  be  made  without 
imminent  hazard  to  him  who  ventures  upon  them: — 
Verses  8—10.  ^'  He  that  diggeth  a  pit  shall  fall  into 
it ;  and  he  that  breaketh  a  hedge,  a  serpent  shall  bite 
him.  Whoso  removeth  stones  shall  be  hurt  therewith ; 
(and)  he  that  cleaveth  wood  shall  be  endangered  there- 
by. If  the  iron  be  blunt,  and  he  do  not  whet  the  edge, 
then  he  must  put  to  more  strength : — but  wisdom  is 
profitable  to  direct." 

Even  with  regard  to  such  a  court  minion  as  has  above 
been  described,  the  patriotic  desire  to  bring  him  down 
from  his  elevation,  and  to  deliver  the  country  from  the 
mischiefs  his  folly  inflicts  upon  it,  may  be  attended  with 
no  little  danger  in  the  attempt  at  its  accomplishment. 
The  man  who  violently  seeks  his  downfall  may  bring 
injury,  and  possibly  even  death,  upon  himself. — But 
the  verses  have  a  general  and  strong  application  to  those 
who  give  way  to  the  suggestions  of  pride  and  resent- 
ment for  real  or  fancied  injuries,  and  are  driven  on,  by 
intemperate  discontent,  to  schemes  of  sedition,  or  open 


454  LECTURE  XIX. 

rebellion.  When  a  man  digs  a  pit,  there  is  a  risk  of 
his  falling  into  it  himself.  So  when  either  a  ruler  be- 
comes a  tyrant,  or  a  subject  a  rebel,  the  oppressive 
abuse  of  power  endangers  the  safety  of  the  one,  and 
the  resistance  of  lawful  authority  that  of  the  other. — 
The  violent  dealing  both  of  the  tyrant  and  of  the  rebel, 
is  ever  ready  to  come  down  upon  their  own  heads.  All 
history  concurs  to  show  us  how  both  the  one  and  the 
other  have  ^'digged  pits"  for  themselves, — falling  vic- 
tims to  their  own  lawless  passions,  or  to  their  inconsi- 
deration  and  rashness  ;  the  retributive  justice  of  Divine 
providence  frequently  displaying  itself,  in  infatuating 
wicked  men,  in  leaving  them  to  outwit  themselves,  and 
to  be  **  snared  in  the  works  of  their  own  hands." — The 
man  who  <'  breaks  a  hedge,"— an  old  hedge,  where  ser- 
pents  are  wont  to  lurk,  may  expect  to  be  bitten  :  so  he 
who  attempts  incautiously  to  break  down  or  to  root  up 
the  ancient  fences  and  boundaries  of  law  and  govern- 
ment, is  in  imminent  jeopardy  of  receiving  deadly 
stings ; — either  bringing  down  premature  vengeance 
upon  his  head  from  the  existing  powers,  or  involving 
himself  in  ruin  by  the  disturbances  which  he  excites. 
*'  Whoso  removeth  stones" — from  a  building,  for 
instance,  with  the  view  of  pulling  it  down, — "  shall  be 
hurt  therewith;"  the  stones  falling  upon  him,  bruising 
him,  and  breaking  his  bones, — especially  if  he  goes  to 
work  in  a  hasty  and  unskilful  manner,  or  attempts  the 
removal  of  what  is  too  heavy  for  his  strength  : — so  the 
man  who  sets  himself  to  pull  down  or  to  alter  the  fabric 
of  the  constitution  and  government  of  a  country,  under- 
takes a  work  of  no  light  or  trifling  difficulty,  and  a  work 
always  of  hazard  to  himself,  and  very  often  of  fearfully 
doubtful  benefit  to  others.  It  is  a  vast  deal  easier  to  find 
fault  than  to  mend  ;  to  complain  of  what  is  wrong,  than 


ECCLES.  X.  1 10.  455 

to  substitute  what  is  right ;  to  pull  down  an  old  house, 
than  to  build  up  a  new  one. 

*'  (And)  he  that  cleaveth  wood  shall  be  endangered 
therewith."  In  all  cases  there  is  risk  of  this.  But  the 
risk  is  various  in  degree ;  and  it  is  especially  great, 
when  a  man  sets  about  his  work  with  bad  tools : — 
Verse  10.  "  If  the  iron  be  blunt,  and  he  do  not  whet 
the  edge,  then  must  he  put  to  more  strength ;"  and  the 
more  strength  he  is  obliged  to  apply,  the  hazard  of  ac- 
cident becomes  the  more  imminent.  So  is  it  with  the 
man  who  presumes  to  act  the  part  of  a  corrector  of  er- 
rors, and  reformer  of  abuses,  without  natural  capacity, 
without  experience  and  skill,  without  adequate  and  well- 
prepared  means;  or  who  attempts  to  accomplish  by 
force  and  violence  what  he  cannot  effect  by  prudence 
and  management.  The  peril  to  himself  is  thus  tenfold 
augmented,  and  along  with  the  peril  to  himself,  the  ha- 
zard of  mischief  to  others. 

But  in  these  and  in  all  other  matters,  "  wisdom  is 
profitable  to  direct."  It  is  of  use  to  guide  us,  in  the 
whole  of  our  conduct,  according  to  the  circumstances 
which  providence  allots  us:— to  "direct"  to  the  most 
proper  objects  of  desire  and  pursuit,  and  to  the  best 
means  of  attaining  them ;  to  the  most  eligible  method 
of  employing  these  means,  and  to  the  most  suitable  time 
for  their  application.  All  these  come  within  the  pro- 
vince of  wisdom ;  and  to  all  these  due  attention  is  ne- 
cessary, in  order  to  good  being  done  effectually  and 
safely  without  failure  and  shame,  and  without  concomi- 
tant or  subsequent  mischief. 

Allow  me,  before  closing— m  tJie  first  place,  to  apply 
the  observation  in  the  first  verse  of  the  chapter,  in  a 
more  particular  manner,  to  Christian  character. — '^  A 
good  name,"  it  is  said  in  the  beginning  of  the  seventh 


456  LECTURE  XIX!. 

chapter,  "  (is)  better  than  precious  ointment."  In  pro- 
portion to  its  value,  it  should  be  preserved  with  care ; 
as  the  apothecary  will  be  anxious,  according  to  the 
fineness  and  costliness  of  his  perfume,  to  keep  it  from 
dead  flies,  and  every  other  means  of  deterioration  and 
corruption.  It  is  precious  in  itself,  and  ought  to  be 
carefully  retained  for  its  own  sake.  It  is  precious 
on  account  of  the  happy  influence  imparted  by  it, 
in  enforcing  all  a  man's  instructions,  and  counsels', 
and  attempts  at  usefulness;  and  should  be  cherished 
for  the  sake  of  its  effects.  When  a  man  possesses 
a  high  character  as  a  Christian,  he  is  "in  repu- 
tation for  wisdom  and  honour"  of  the  most  excel- 
lent kind.  This  is  "  a  good  name"  indeed  ; — the 
best  it  is  possible  to  enjoy.  It  is  like  that  sacred  oint- 
ment, compounded  by  the  instructions  of  God  himself, 
which  was  to  be  applied  to  no  common  or  profane  use, 
and  of  which  no  imitation  was  permitted  to  be  made. 
O  my  Christian  brethren,  of  what  importance  is  it,  for 
the  honour  of  God  our  Saviour,  and  for  the  best  inte- 
rests of  our  fellow-men,  that  we  preserve  this  reputa- 
tion untainted  !  When  David,  by  his  fall,  "  gave  occa- 
sion to  the  enemies  of  the  Lord  to  blaspheme,"  he  did 
essential  injury  to  both;  injury  that  has  never  been  re- 
paired even  to  this  day : — for  his  recorded  sin  is  still 
the  sneer  of  the  scofliing  infidel,  and  the  encouragement 
of  the  determined  offender.  O  seek,  earnestly  and  im- 
portunately seek,  those  supplies  of  grace  that  are  need- 
ful, for  enabling  you  to  maintain  a  steady  consistency, 
— to  keep  your  garments  clean,  amid  the  pollutions  of 
a  defiled  and  defiling  world, — to  keep  the  sweet  per- 
fume of  your  Christian  virtues  free  from  the  corruption 
of  offensive  incongruities.  Remember  the  eyes  of  the 
men  of  the  world  are  intently  fixed  on  those  whom  the 


ECCLES.  X.  1 10.  457 

blessed  Redeemer  has  "  chosen  out  of  the  world,"  and 
who  profess  to  have  separated  themselves  from  its  sins 
and  its  vanities.  They  watch  them  narrowly.  They  are 
acute  detectors  of  inconsistency.  They  have  a  malig- 
nant satisfaction  in  the  discovery  of  evil ;  and,  when  a 
discovery  is  made,  there  are  no  bounds  to  the  severity 
of  their  censure ;  they  know  not  what  it  is  to  make  al- 
lowances. It  speedily  circulates,  gathering  aggravations 
in  its  progress.  It  is  commented  on  with  all  the  keen- 
ness of  invective,  and  ail  the  bitterness  of  sarcasm  ; 
with  the  sneer,  the  shrug,  the  wink,  the  smile  of  irony, 
the  sallies  of  satirical  humour,  and  the  loud  laugh  of 
jesting  and  buffoonery.  The  unhappy  transgressor  may 
have  "wept  a  silent  flood;"  his  penitent  spirit  may 
have  been  "pierced  through  with  many  sorrows;"  he 
may  have  "  confessed  his  transgression  to  the  Lord," 
and  found  forgiveness  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  But  the 
evil  he  has  done  to  others  may  be  beyond  remedy. — 
And  remember,  my  brethren,  it  is  not  by  gross  sins 
alone  that  your  Christian  reputation  and  usefulness  may 
be  injured.  Flaws  and  defects,  and  failings,  which  in 
others  would  pass  unnoticed,  may  be  marked  and  mag- 
nified in  you.  The  unguarded  liberty  of  a  single  hour 
may  sink  in  the  scale  the  character  acquired  in  succes- 
sive years ;  and  even  a  foible  may  mar  your  influence, 
and  be  like  the  dead  fly  in  the  ointment  of  the  apothe- 
cary. The  higher  you  stand  in  situation  and  repute,  the 
greater  is  your  danger,  and  the  more  imperative  the 
call  to  vigilant  self-jealousy. — Be  you  ever  so  watchful, 
it  is  true,  you  may  be  the  victims  of  calumny  and  false 
accusation  ;  but  let  it  be  your  constant  aim,  with  the 
implored  aid  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  to  "  abstain  from  all 
appearance  of  evil,"  and  to  *'  cut  off"  occasion  from 
those  who  desire  occasion"  against  vourselves,  and 
3  M 


458  LECTURE  XIX. 

against  the  Master  whom  you  serve.  "  Walk  in  wis* 
dom  toward  them  that  are  without,  redeeming  the  time. 
Let  your  speech  (be)  alway  with  grace,  seasoned  with 
salt,  that  ye  may  know  how  ye  ought  to  answer  every 
man."  "  Sanctify  the  Lord  God  in  your  hearts;  and 
(be)  ready  always  to  (give)  an  answer  to  every  man  that 
asketh  you  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in  you,  with 
meekness  and  fear :  having  a  good  conscience  ;  that, 
whereas  they  speak  against  you  as  evil-doers,  they  may 
be  ashamed  that  falsely  accuse  your  good  conversation 
in  Christ."* 

Secondly.  If  a  wise  man's  heart  is  at  his  right  hand, 
and  a  fool's  heart  at  his  left,  there  is  one  most  important 
particular,  in  which  all  are  by  nature  fools;  and  the 
grace  of  God  alone  corrects  the  folly. — There  is  one 
object,  about  which  every  man  whose  understanding  is 
not  miserably  perverted,  must  feel  a  special  solicitude  ; 
and  for  which,  calculating  on  the  principles  of  common 
prudence,  every  thing  else  ought  to  be  cheerfully  sacri- 
ficed. Yet  while  "  all  things  are  full  of  labour,"  the 
diversified  toils  of  men  are  almost  exclusively  for  **  the 
meat  that  perisheth."  How  few  comparatively  mind  the 
gracious  injunction,  to  "  labour  for  that  which  endureth 
.to  eternal  life!"  This  is  a  description  of  labour  to 
which  men  have  no  natural  inclination;  in  which,  alas  ! 
every  man's  heart  is  "at  his  left  hand."  He  cither  ne- 
glects it  altogether,  or  he  sets  about  it  on  false  princi- 
ples, and  in  a  wrong  way.  The  truly  wise  man,  the 
man  whose  heart  is  "  at  his  right  hand,"  considers  im- 
mortality as  incomparably  the  most  important  concern 
of  an  immortal  creature ;  and  the  service  of  God,  in 
whatever  sphere  he  occupies,  as  his  happiness  and  his 
honour.   To  this  service  he  applies  his  right  hand,  em- 

♦  Col.  Iv.  5,  6.  1  Pet,  iii.  15,  16. 


ECCLES.  X.   1 10.  159 

ploying  in  it  all  his  power  and  all  his  skill. —And  whiLt 
he  pursues  the  highest  of  all  aims,  he  does  it  accordini; 
to  the  directions  of  a  wisdom  superior  to  his  own.  The 
fool  may  attempt  to  serve  God  in  his  own  way  and  in 
his  own  strength,  and  to  attain  immortal  life  on  ti\c 
ground  of  his  own  fancied  merits.    But  the  wise  man, 
impressed  with  the  presumption  and  vanity  of  all  such 
attempts  on  the  part  of  sinful  creatures,  guilt)-,  con- 
demned, and  without  strength,  accepts,  with  gratitude, 
the  offers  of  mercy».     Instead  of  "  going  about  to  esta- 
blish his  own  righteousness,"  trying  to  make  out  u 
condition  of  life  which  he  has  already  violated,  forming 
and   breaking  unprofitable   resolutions,   he   "  submits 
himself  to  the  righteousness  of  God,"— *•  the  righteous- 
ness which  is  by  faith."    *'  Accepted  in  the  beloved," 
he  gives  himself  to  God  in  active  service,  under  the 
impulse  of  grateful  love.     His  right  handy  and  all  the 
powers  of  his  mind  directing  its  efforts,  are  devoted  to 
his  new  Master.     He  follows  implicitly  the  dictates  of 
his  will ;  throwing  aside  his  own  mventions  and  reason- 
ings,  and  pursuing  Divine  ends  by  Divine   means, 
seeking  God's  glory  in  God's  own  way,  and  never  pre- 
suming that  he  can  improve  upon  the  counsels  of  Hea- 
ven.   When  he  acts  otherwise  than  thus,  his  "  heart  is 
at  his  left  hand."  "  Let  no  man  deceive  himself.  If  any 
man  among  you  scemeth  to  be  wise  in  this  world,  let 
him  become  a  fool  that  he  may  be  wise.    For  the  wis- 
dom  of  this  world  is  foolishness  with  God ;   for  it  is 
written.  He  taketh  the  wise  in  their  own  craftiness  :  and 
again,  The  Lord  knoweth  the  thoughts  of  the  wise,  that 
they  are  vain."    If,  instead  of  humbly  abiding  by  the 
instructions  given  us,  we  begin  to  devise  rules  and  to 
follow  methods  of  our  own,  it  will  turn  out  in  the  end 
only  an  exhibition  of  our  folly.    It  will  be  "  saying  to 


460  LECTURE  XIX. 

every  one  that  we  are  fools."  And  instead  of  whatso- 
ever we  do  prospering,  nothing  can  be  anticipated  from 
our  schemes  but  failure  and  shame. 

Thirdly.  Observe  the  manner  in  which  all  oiTences 
and  differences  should  be  managed,  if  our  object  be  to 
heal,  and  to  restore  confidence  and  peace.— The  advice 
and  sentiment  in  the  fourth  verse  may  be  profitably 
generalized.  You  may  not  be  called  to  "  Stand  before 
kings,"  and  to  incur  the  displeasure  of  rulers.  But  in 
all  the  various  intercourse  of  life,— in  the  family,  in  the 
church,  in  the  world,— bear  in  mind  the  maxim,  that 
••'yielding  pacifieth  great  offences."  Nothing  is  to  be 
gained  by  proud  defiance  and  angry  violence  ;  by  the 
display  of  an  unbending  spirit ;  a  spirit  that  scorns  to 
confess  its  own  faults,  and  that  seem  to  stoop  and  con- 
descend, with  haughty  superciliousness,  in  receiving 
the  acknowledgments  of  others.  A  gentle  yielding 
spirit  is  the  spirit  of  conciliation  and  harmony.  Anger 
irritates  and  inflames  the  wound ;  meekness  mollifies, 
cleanses,  and  heals  it.  Resentful  pride  adds  fury  to  the 
storm  ;  a  mild  demeanour  changes  it  to  a  calm.  By  the 
pouring  on  of  oil  we  may  smooth  the  wave,  which  we 
should  lash  and  rebuke  in  vain.  "  Put  on,  therefore, 
as  the  elect  of  God,  holy  and  beloved,  bowels  of  mer- 
cies, kindness,  humbleness  of  mind,  meekness,  long- 
suffering;  forbearing  one  another  and  forgiving  one 
another,  if  any  man  have  a  quarrel  against  any  ;  even 
as  Christ  forgave  you,  so  also  (do)  ye.  And  above  all 
these  things  (put  on)  love,  which  is  the  bond  of  per- 
fectness :  and  let  the  peace  of  God  rule  in  your  hearts, 
to  the  which  also  ye  are  called  in  one  body  ;  and  be  ye 
thankful."* 

Fourthlij.  It  is  a  good  general  principle,  reasonable 

*  Col,  Jli.  12 — 15. 


ECCLES.  X.   1 10.  461 

in  its  nature,  and  beneficial  in  its  application,  that  every 
man  keep  within  his  own  sphere  in  society,  discharg- 
ing its  duties  with  humility,  and  judging  others  with 
candour. — Public  men  are  exposed  to  many  and  strong 
temptations  ;  and  on  many  occasions,  amidst  the  con- 
tending interests  of  the  members  of  their  own  com- 
munity, and  the  relative  claims  of  foreign  states,  can- 
not fail  to  be  environed  with  perplexing  difficulties. 
We  certainly  expect  more  than  is  reasonable,  if  we 
imagine  they  are  never  to  err,  or  that  their  errors  are 
always  to  be  trivial.  Let  us  place  ourselves  in  their 
situation,  and,  sensible  of  the  deceitfulness  of  our  own 
hearts,  and  of  our  liableness  to  err  and  to  be  imposed 
upon  even  in  the  little  concerns  of  common  life,  let  us 
not  be  extravagant  in  our  expectations,  or  harsh  and 
contemptuous  in  our  judgments.— Not  that  princes  and 
the  administrators  of  government  are  never  to  be  told 
of  their  errors,  and  of  the  dangers  and  the  mischiefs  to 
which  the  country  is  exposed  by  their  misrule.  Only 
let  us  be  diffident  and  candid,  and  ready  to  make  fair 
and  reasonable  allowances. — And  let  us  beware  of  rash 
and  hasty  interference.  There  are  few  things  in  which 
consideration  and  caution  are  more  imperiously  requir- 
ed, than  the  redress  of  grievances  and  the  reformation 
of  abuses.  Resentment  and  pride  are  dangerous  coun- 
sellors ;  and  measures  of  precipitation  and  violence  arc 
seldom  either  equitable  or  expedient.  Those  men  are 
often  the  most  forward  with  their  schemes  and  their 
offers  of  aid,  who  are  least  qualified  for  the  work,  and 
least  aware  either  of  the  difficulties  of  its  execution,  or 
of  the  problematical  uncertainty  of  its  consequences. — 
The  body  politic,  like  the  animal  body,  will  ever  be 
most  vigorous  and  thriving,  when  all  the  members 
keep  their  proper  places,  and  duly  fulfil  their  respective 


462  LECTURE  XIX. 

functions.  And  the  same  similitude  is  applied  by  in- 
spired authority  to  the  church,  or  the  body  of  Christ. 
"  The  body  is  not  one  member,  but  many.  If  the  foot 
shall  say,  Because  I  am  not  the  hund,  I  am  not  of  the 
body  ;  is  it  therefore  not  of  the  body  ?  And  if  the  ear 
shall  say,  Because  I  am  not  the  eye,  I  am  not  of  the 
body ;  is  it  therefore  not  of  the  body  ?  If  the  whole 
body  (were)  an  eye,  where  (were)  the  hearing  ?  and  if 
the  whole  (were)  hearing,  where  (were)  the  smelling? 
But  now  hath  God  set  the  members  every  one  of  them 
in  the  body  as  it  hath  pleased  him. — And  the  eye  can- 
not say  unto  the  hand,  I  have  no  need  of  thee  ;  nor 
again,  the  head  to  the  feet,  1  have  no  need  of  you. — 
That  there  should  be  no  schism  in  the  body  ;  but  (that) 
all  the  members  should  have  the  same  care  one  for 
another.  And  whether  one  member  suffer,  all  the  mem- 
bers suffer  with  it ;  or  one  member  be  honoured,  all 
the  members  rejoice  with  it."* 

Beware,  especially,  of  intermeddling  with  others  from 
envy,  or  any  such  malignant  principle,  with  a  view  to 
bring  them  down.  Many  a  time,  in  such  cases,  has  the 
saying  been  verified,  "  He  that  diggeth  a  pit  shall  fall 
into  it."  In  the  secret  workings  of  his  providence,  the 
Lord  often  turns  into  foolishness  the  evil  devices  of 
men  against  one  another,  and  particularly  against  his 
own  people,  and  entangles  their  feet  in  the  meshes  of 
their  own  snares.  Haman  was  hanged  on  the  gallows 
which  he  had  prepared  for  Mordecai  ;  and  Mordecai, 
whom  he  had  sought  to  crush,  was  advanced  to  dignity 
and  honour. — The  author  of  a  calumny  digs  a  pit,  into 
which  he  not  unfrequently  falls  himself.  He  prepares 
a  grave  for  tlic  reputation  of  another,  and  he  who  pro- 
pagates the  slander  assists  him  in  deepening  and  widen- 

*  ICor.  xii.  14—18,21,  25. 


ECCLHS.  X.   1 10.  4fi3 

ing  it ;  and  in  the  issue  it  buries  his  own.  "  Judge  not, 
that  ye  be  not  judged :  for  with  what  judgment  ye 
judge,  ye  shall  be  judged,  and  with  what  measure  yc 
mete,  it  shall  be  measured  to  you  again."  "  He  shall 
have  judgment  without  mercy  that  hath  showed  no 
mercy."* 

Lastly.  Never  forget  whence  all  the  "  wisdom"  that 
is  "  profitable  to  direct,"  and  especially  all  spiritual  un- 
derstanding of  truth  and  duty,  must  be  sought  and 
found.  "  if  any  of  you  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of 
God,  that  giveth  to  all  liberally,  and  upbraideth  not : 
and  it  shall  be  given  him."  "  The  wisdom  that  is  from 
above  is  first  pure,  then  peaceable,  gentle,  easy  to  be 
entreated,  full  of  mercy  and  good  fruits,  without  par- 
tiality, and  without  hypocrisy."     "  For  this  cause  we 

also do  not  cease  to  pray  for  you,  and  to  desire 

that  ye  might  be  filled  with  the  knowledge  of  his  will, 
in  all  wisdom  and  spiritual  understanding;  that  ye 
might  walk  worthy  of  the  Lord  unto  all  pleasing,  be- 
ing fruitful  in  every  good  work,  and  increasing  in  the 
knowledge  of  God."  '^  Show  me  thy  ways,  O  Lord  : 
teach  me  thy  paths.  Lead  me  in  thy  truth,  and  teach 
me  ;  for  thou  (art)  the  God  of  my  salvation  ;  on  thee 
do  I  hope  all  the  day."t 

*  Matt.  vii.  1,  2,     James  ii.  13. 

t  James  i.  5.  iii.  17.    Col.  i.  9,  10.    I'sal.  xxv.  4,  5. 


LECTURE  XX, 


ECCLES.  X.    11 20. 

11  "  Surely  the  scr/icnt  will  bite  without  enchantment ;  and  a  babbles' 

12  is  no  better.  The  words  of  a  wise  man's  mouth  fare  J  gracious:  but 

13  the  lifis  of  a  fool  will  swallow  ufi  himself.  The  beginning  of  the 
words  of  his  mouth  (is)  foolishness  ;  and  the  end  of  his  talk  fisj 

14  mischievous  madness.  .4  fool  also  is  full  of  words  :  a  man  cannot 
tell  what  shall  be  ;  and  what  shall  be  after  him,  who  can  tell  him  ? 

15  The  labour  of  the  foolish  wearieth  e-very  one  of  them,  because  he 

16  knoweth  not  how  to  go  to  the  city.     Woe  to  thee,  0  land,  when  thy 

17  king  CisJ  a  child,  and  thy  firijices  cat  in  the  morning  I  Blessed 
fart  J  thou,  O  land,  when  thy  king  (is  J  the  son  of  nobles,  and  thy 
princes  eat  in  due  season,  for  strength,  and  not  for  drunkenness  I 

18  By  much  slothfulness  the  building  decayeth ;  and  through  idleness 

19  of  the  hands  the  house  droppeth  through.  AJeast  is  made  for  laugh- 
ter, and  wine  maketh  merry  :   but  money  answcreth  all  (things.) 

2Q  Curse  not  the  king,  no,  not  in  thy  thought ;  and  curse  not  the  rich  in 
thy  bed-chamber :  for  a  bird  of  the  air  shall  carry  the  voice,  and 
that  which  hath  winga  shall  tell  the  matter.'* 


In  these  verses,  Solomon  pursues  the  same  general 
train  of  thought  as  in  those  which  precede ;  comparing 
together  the  respective  qualities  and  effects  of  wisdom 
and  folly. 

Verse  11.  "  Surely  the  serpent  will  bite  without  en- 
chantment, and  a  babbler  is  no  better."— There  is  in 
these  words  an  allusion  to  a  practice  said  to  prevail  in 
the  East,  of  charming  adders  by  the  power  of  sounds, 
fascinating  them  by  musical  incantations,  and  rendering 
them  for  the  time  harmless  to  the  persons  who  handled 
them.  There  are  references  to  the  same  custom  in  other 
parts  of  Scripture  ;  and  the  fact  is  vouched  by  consi- 
derable authorities.     "  Their  poison"  (the  poison  of 


ECCLES.  X.  11 20.  405 

wicked  men)  "  (is)  like  the  poison  of  a  serpent :  (they 
are)  like  the  deaf  adder,  (that)  stoppcth  her  ear;  that 
will  not  hearken  to  the  voice  of  charmers,  charming 
ever  so  wisely."  "  Behold,  I  will  send  serpents,  cocka- 
trices, among  you,  which  (will)  not  (be)  charmed,  and 
they  shall  bite  you,  saith  the  Lord."* 

The  meaning  of  the  verse  before  us,  however, 
does  not  at  all  depend  on  the  reality  of  the  alleged  fact: 
Whether  it  was  authentic,  or  only  the  general  belief, 
the  sentiment  expressed  is  the  same. — *'  Surely  the  ser- 
pent will  bite  without  enchantment," — that  is,  he  will 
bite  unless  he  be  charmed:  "  and  a  babbler  is  no  better." 
This  latter  clause  is  by  some  rendered—"  and  there  is 
no  success  to  the  master  of  the  tongue ;"  and  is  inter- 
preted as  expressing  the  vanity  of  the  most  exquisite 
incantations,  even  by  "  charmers  charming  ever  so 
wisely,"  after  the  bite  has  been  injlicted  ;■[  and  as  in- 
tended to  warn  against  delay  in  softening  and  subdu- 
ing a  dangerous  character,  and  thus  preventing  what, 
when  once  done,  it  may  be  far  from  easy  to  remedy. 
But  it  was  not  by  the  subtle  eloquence  of  the  tongue, 
that  serpents  were  charmed ;  and  the  connection  evi- 
dently favours  the  translation  of  the  Hebrew  phrase, 
signifying  "  master  of  the  tongue,"  by  such  an  English 
designation  as  "  babbler,"  or  talker  ;— 3.  man  who  is 
all  tongue. — This  "  babbler"  is  the  very  person  to  be 
charmed.  He  is  compared  to  a  serpent.  His  tongue  is 
dangerous  in  the  extreme,— doing  injury  sometimes 
without  design  and  sometimes  with  it, — from  the  want 
of  common  sense,  or  from  the  want  of  principle.  It  is 
''  an  unruly  evil,  full  of  deadly  poison."  He  who  gives 
to  his  tongue  an  unrestrained  license,  and  is  guided  in 

♦  Psal.  Iviii.  4,  5.     Jer.  viii.  17. 
f  Si  serpens  momorclerit,  non  incantatus,  quid  prxstabit  peritisslinus  in- 
cantatoi-  i—l'an  der  Palm. 

3N 


466  LECTUIIE  XX. 

the  use  of  it  neither  by  principle  nor  by  prudence,  is  a 
man  that  requires  to  be  managed  with  peculiar  caution. 
Contradiction  and  violence  may  only  irritate,  and  make 
the  venom  of  his  tongue  the  more  virulent  and  deadly. 
He  must  be  charmed.  We  must  find  out  his  right  side, 
— the  way  to  gain  his  good  graces,  to  tame  him,  and 
keep  him  gentle.  If  he  be  a  man  of  power,  the  danger 
of  meddling  with  him  becomes  the  more  imminent,  and 
the  necessity  for  cautious  management  the  more  im- 
perative. 

But  a  babbler  is  dangerous  not  only  to  others  ;  he  is 
equally  so  to  himself: — Verse  12.  "  The  words  of  a 
wise  man's  mouth  (are)  gracious;  but  the  lips  of  a  fool 
swallow  up  himself." — "  The  words  of  a  wise  man's 
mouth/' — of  the  man  who  is  guided  by  sound  princi- 
ple and  discretion,  and  a  due  consideration  of  circum- 
stances and  characters, — "  are  gracious  :"-- they  are 
kind  and  insinuating,  adapted,  in  times  of  difficulty,  to 
gain  and  to  secure  the  friendship  of  others,— to  avert 
gathering  storms,  and  to  still  the  tempest  when  it  has 
begun  to  rage.  Such  were  the  words  of  Jacob,  when, 
after  having  committed  himself  to  the  God  of  his  fa- 
thers, he  went  to  meet  his  brother  Esau,  whose  proud 
resentment  he  had  so  much  cause  to  fear.*  And  such 
were  the  words  of  Abigail  to  David,  when  his  wrath 
had  been  kindled  by  the  insolent  conduct  of  her  chur- 
lish and  thankless  husband,  and  his  purpose  of  ven- 
geance had  been  formed,  and  was  on  the  eve  of  imme- 
diate execution.! 

The  contrast  of  the  first  clause  of  this  verse  with  the 
second,  clearly  shows  what  is  meant  by  the  gracious- 
ness  of  the  wise  man's  words  :— "  but  the  lips  of  a  fool 
swallow  up  himself."  His  rash,  imprudent,  and  passion^ 

♦  Gen.  xxxii.  -j-  i  Sam.  xxv. 


ECCLES.  X.  11 — 20.  467 

ate,  or  his  unprincipled  and  slanderous  talk,  is  inces- 
santly exposing  him  to  hazards,  alienating  his  friends, 
exasperating  his  enemies,* and  bringing  upon  him  their 
open  or  their  secret  vengeance.  He  thus  digs  pits  for 
himself  that  may  swallow  him  up,  and  becomes  the 
victim  of  his  own  folly. — The  conduct  of  the  successor 
of  Solomon  in  the  throne  of  Israel,  affords  an  apt  illus- 
tration of  "  a  fool's  words  swallowing  up  himself." 
Had  Rehoboam  followed  the  sound  advice  of  the  aged 
counsellors  of  his  father,  and  "  spoken  good  words  to 
the  people,"  when  they  came  to  implore  a  mitigation 
of  their  burdens,  all  had  been  well.  They  would  have 
sworn  a  willing  allegiance ;  would  have  shouted  "  God 
save  king  Rehoboam  !"  and  would  have  been,  as  the 
old  men  expressed  it,  "  his  servants  forever."  But, 
like  a  fool,  instead  of  his  words  being  "  gracious,"  he 
*' answered  the  people  roughly,"  talked,  with  super- 
cilious severity,  of  "  his  little  finger  being  thicker  than 
his  father's  loins,"  and  of  "  chastising  them  with  scor- 
pions in  place  of  whips:"  and  his  ungracious  words 
*'  swallowed  up  himself."  They  roused  the  indignant 
spirit  of  the  people,  divided  his  kingdom,  and  alienated 
for  ever  from  the  house  of  David  the  whole  of  Israel 
except  the  tribe  of  Judah. 

We  cannot  wonder  that  the  fool's  words  should  be 
represented  as  thus  hazardous  to  himself  as  well  as  to 
others,  when  we  consider  the  description  of  them  in  the 
thirteenth  verse : — "  The  beginning  of  the  words  of 
his  mouth  (is)  foolishness ;  and  the  end  of  his  talk  (is) 
mischievous  madness." — When  he  speaks  at  all  he 
speaks  foolishly  ;  and  commencing  in  folly,  lie  con- 
cludes in  madness  :  he  either  works  himself  up  to  a 
pitch  of  frenzy,  by  the  very  power  of  eager  and  con- 
tinued vociferation,  fretting  and  fuming  with  ridiculous 


468  LECTURE  XX. 

and  extravagant  passion,  at  phantoms  possibly  of  his 
own  creation,  which  his  wild  and  incoherent  mind  has 
embodied  into  reality,  and,  by  dwelling  upon  them  and 
talking  of  them,  has  aggravated  to  a  hideous  magni- 
tude :— or,  if  he  happens  to  meet  with  the  smallest  check 
or  contradiction,— if  he  is  not  listened  to  with  the  at- 
tention to  which  he  deems  such  an  oracle  entitled, — if 
Ills  hearer  does  not  appear  to  feel  along  with  him  to  the 
full  extent  to  which  he  absurdly  feels  himself; — he  is 
instantly  on  fire,  all  blaze,  and  smoke,  and  noise ;  he 
is  thrown  more  and  more  oflf  his  guard  ;  till  his  passion 
becomes  "  mischievous  madness,"  perilous  to  all  with- 
in his  reach,  and  whom  he  has  power  to  injure,  and  not 
less  perilous  to  himself.  Were  it  not  for  the  harm 
which  such  a  combustible  talker,  in  his  moments  of 
inflammation,  may  occasion,  along  with  the  pain  pro- 
duced by  the  humiliating  spectacle  of  a  fellow-man  ex- 
posing himself,  as  the  wretched  dupe  of  his  own  im- 
becility and  senseless  passion,  he  might  well  be  laughed 
at  for  the  ludicrous  incongruity  between  his  feelings 
and  their  exciting  causes,  between  his  endless  and  over- 
powering talk,  and  the  subjects  of  his  voluble  vehe- 
mence.— The  character  is  in  this  verse  shortly  but 
strikingly  touched.  It  is  far  from  being  uncommon. 
And  there  are  few  more  dangerous,  or  more  difficult 
to  manage. 

Ft'w  ideas  and  many  rvords,.  is  the  next  feature  in 
the  portraiture  of  the  fool : — Verse  14.  "  A  fool  also  is 
full  of  words :  a  man  cannot  tell  what  shall  be ;  and 
what  shall  be  after  him,  who  can  tell  him  ?" 

Some,  I  believe,  have  fancied,  that  Solomon  here 
7nimics  the  fool, — giving  an  exemplification  or  speci- 
men of  what  he  means.  Rather  than  cease  talking,  the 
fool  will  repeat  the  same  thing  in  much  the  same  words : 


ECCLES.  X.  11 20.  469 

— "  A  man  cannot  tell  what  shall  be,— and  what  shall 
be  after  him,  who  can  tell  him  ?"  But  this,  if  it  be  in- 
genious, is  not  solid.  T\\e  two  clauses  are  not  of  the 
same  meaning.  The  latter  is  not  a  mere  vain  repetition 
of  the  former.  "  A  man  cannot  tell  what  shall  be,"  ex- 
presses  a  person's  own  inability  to  dive  into  the  future; 
and  '*  what  shall  be  after  him,  who  can  tell  him  ?"  ex- 
presses  the  inability  of  all  others  to  give  him  the  infor- 
mation he  may  wish  for. 

By  others,  the  verse  is  considered  as  reproving  the 
presumptuous  vanity  of  the  fool's  talk.  His  being  •'  full 
of  words,"  they  think,  refers  particularly  to  his  foolish 
boastings  of  what  he  is  to  do,— his  airy  promises, — his 
extravagant  and  confident  schemes  for  the  future,  and 
vauntings  of  their  certain  success ;— a  very  common  way 
in  which  the  fool  utters  his  mind  and  proclaims  his  folly ; 
forgetting  entirely,  that  while  he  thus  talks  at  random, 
and  roams  at  large  over  the  fields  of  futurity,  with  no 
doubts,  no  conditional  ifs^  no  humble  recollection  of 
dependence,  between  him  and  the  attainment  of  all  his 
speculations, — "  a  man  cannot  tell  what  shall  be  ;  and 
what  shall  be  after  him,  who  can  tell  him  ?" 

Others  still,— and  this  is  probably  the  true  meaning, 
—interpret  the  words  as  descriptive  of  the  loose  inco- 
herency,  the  unconnected  heterogenous  jumble,  of  the 
fool's  discourse  ;  which  is  so  mingled,  so  impertinent, 
so  disjointed,  that  no  man  at  any  one  part  of  it,  can  tell, 
or  can  even  guess,  what  is  to  come  next.  No  man  can 
judge  from  what  he  is  now  saying,  what  he  is  about 
to  say,  or  from  what  he  is  now  doing,  what  he  is  about 
to  do.  If  the  person  who  is  himself  at  a  loss  puts  the 
question  to  others,  he  finds  them  ^s  unable  to  conjec- 
ture as  himself:— "a  man  cannot  tell  what  is  to  be; 
and  what  is  to  come  after  it,  who  can  tell  him  ?"  All 


470  LECTUHE  XX. 

is  Babel:  no  order,  no  system,  no  associated  pairs  of 
ideas,  no  rational  and  perceptible  sequence  of  one  thing 
from  another. 

In  these  different  interpretations,  the  character  repre- 
sented  is  much  the  same  ;  only  it  is  brought  out  from 
the  words  in  different  ways.  The  fool  appears  in  them 
all,  as  a  man  of  words,  rather  than  of  ideas  ;  and  "  full 
of  words."  He  talks  at  random  about  every  thing,  past, 
present,  or  to  come ;  and  is  always  equally  confident. 
It  is  vain  to  attempt  arguing  with  him  ;  he  cannot  be 
kept  to  a  point ;  he  will  stupify  you  with  talk  ;  and  he 
must  and  will  have  the  last  word,  even  although  he 
should  only  say  at  the  end  the  same  thing  tliat  he  said 
at  the  beginning. 

A  total  wqnt  of  common  sense  in  the  most  ordinary 
affairs  of  life,  and  transactions  of  business,  completes 
the  picture  : — Verse  15.  "  The  labour  of  the  fooHsh 
wearieth  every  one  of  them;  because  he  knoweth  not 
how  to  go  to  the  city." — This  last  expression  was  in 
all  probability  proverbial.  ^^  He  does  not  know  the  way 
into  the  city,"— although,  it  may  be,  living  in  the  im- 
mediate vicinity.  He  wanders  in  the  openest  and  best 
frequented  road : — that  is,  he  blunders  in  the  simplest 
and  easiest  matters.  If  there  be  a  wrong  way,  he  is  sure 
to  take  it.— The  whole  verse  connects  immediately  with 
the  preceding.  "  A  man  cannot  tell  what  is  to  be  ;  and 
what  shall  be  after  it  who  can  tell  him  ?  The  labour 
of  the  foolish  wearieth  every  one  of  them:'''' — that  is, 
all  men  that  have  any  thing  to  do  with  him.  They  are 
tcazed,  and  harassed,  and  worn  out  of  patience  by  his 
incorrigible  stupidity,  and  the  blunders  it  is  perpetually 
producing  ;  blunders,  of  which  the  rectification  is  some- 
times much  more  troublesome  than  the  entire  business 
about  which  they  are  committed.    Send  the  fool  back 


ECCLES.  X.  11-^20.  471 

to  adjust  his  error,  and  it  is  twenty  to  one  that  he  makes 
a  second  worse  than  the  first. 

The  whole  of  this  description  of  the  absurdity  of  the 
fool's  discourse  and  conduct,  and  its  mischievous  conse- 
quences, may  be  understood  as  opposed  to  the  brief 
commendation  of  wisdom  in  the  end  of  the  tenth  verse, 
as  "profitable  to  direct."  The  wise  man  "  orders  his 
own  aff'airs  with  discretion,"  and  whatever  is  intrusted 
to  him  by  others  he  manages  with  prudence,  accuracy, 
and  despatch,  securing  to  himself  approbation,  confi- 
dence, and  advancement. 

In  speaking  of  the  opposite  effects  of  wisdom  and 
folly,  it  was  not  unnatural  for  the  writer,  himself  a 
king,  to  introduce  some  remarks  on  the  comparative 
influence  of  the  one  and  the  other,  when  predominant 
in  the  character  of  public  rulers: — Verses  16,  17. 
"  Woe  to  thee,  O  land,  when  thy  king  (is)  a  child, 
and  thy  princes  eat  in  the  morning.  Blessed  (art)  thou, 
O  land,  when  thy  king  (is)  the  son  of  nobles,  and  thy 
princes  eat  in  due  season,  for  strength,  and  not  for 
drunkenness." 

"  A  child,"  in  the  former  of  these  verses,  refers  not 
so  much  to  age,  as  to  capacity.  A  wo  is  pronounced 
on  a  country  when  its  sovereign  is  ignorant,  inexpe- 
rienced, froward,  fickle,  wilful,  easily  imposed  upon,  and 
otherwise  unfit,  as  a  child,  for  his  weighty  charge.  The 
historian  of  the  reign  of  Rehoboam  the  son  of  Solomon, 
in  the  first  book  of  Kings,  informs  us  that  the  prince 
"  \s?<s,  forty  and  one  years  old  when  he  began  to  reign.'' 
Yet  when  Abijah,  his  son  and  successor,  expostulates 
with  Jeroboam  and  his  followers  for  their  rebellion 
against  his  father,  he  represents  Rehoboam  as  having 
been  then  '■^  young  and  tender-hearted,"  and  incapable 
of  withstanding  them.*     Tender-hearted  is  an  epithet 

♦  Compare  1  Kings  xiv.  21.  with  2  Chron.  xiii.  T . 


473  LECTURE  XX. 

susceptible  of  different  significations.  When  it  is  said 
of  the  good  king  Josiah  that  his  "  heart  was  tender," 
that  lowliness  and  contrition  of  spirit  are  meant,  which 
arise  from  a  sense  of  sin,  and  a  becoming  fear  of  God. 
He  "  humbled  himself  and  wept  before  the  Lord."  But 
this  was  not  the  character  of  Rehoboam ;  and  the  epi- 
thet, when  applied  to  him,  must  be  understood  as  ex- 
pressing irresolute  timidity,  softness,  want  of  courage 
and  nerve,  for  encountering  and  going  through  difficul- 
ties. But  whatever  we  conceive  to  be  meant  by  tender- 
hearted ;  certainly,  when  we  think  of  the  age  above  as- 
signed to  Rehoboam,  the  word  translated  young  cannot 
signify  his  being  a  child  in  years  :  and  yet  it  is  the  same 
word  as  that  rendered  "  a  child'''  in  the  passage  before 
us.  It  means  evidently  that  he  was  raw  and  inexpe- 
rienced, deficient  in  vigour,  and  without  skill.  We  ne- 
cessarily  associate  with  extensive  power  lodged  in  the 
hands  of  a  child,  the  ideas  of  general  incapacity,  inex- 
perience, and  liableness  to  imposition,  and  the  proba- 
bility at  least  of  frowardness,  fickleness,  and  self-will. 
Hence  it  is  threatened,  through  the  prophet  Isaiah,  as 
a  curse  upon  the  people  of  Israel,  *'  I  will  give  children 
(to  be)  their  princes,  and  babes  shall  rule  over  them."* 
In  such  cases,  it  cannot  be  expected  that  public 
affairs  should  prosper ;  and  especially  when  to  the  in- 
capacity of  the  sovereign  there  is  added  the  curse  of 
an  indolent  and  voluptuous  nobility  ;  when  not  only 
is  the  king  of  the  land  a  child,  but  her  "  princes  eat  in 
the  morning;"  that  is,  when  they  are  men  "given  to 
appetite,"  devoted  to  sensual  gratifications,  their  god 
their  belly,  indulging  their  propensities  at  unseasonable 
times,  for  their  own  pleasure,  and  to  the  neglect  of  the 
business  of  the  state.  A  wise,  and  temperate,  .and  active 

*  Isaiah  lii.  4. 


ECCLES.  X.   1  1—30.  473 

nobility,  might  counteract,  by  their  counsel  and  their 
influence,  the  mischiefs  of  a  weak  prince's  incapacity. 
But  when  both  these  evils  meet,  then  may  it  be  said, 
with  emphasis  as  well  as  truth,  "  Wo  to  thee,  O  land!" 
Every  thing  must  be  deranged  and  out  of  course;  all 
the  miseries  must  be  felt  of  misrule,  oppression,  and 
anarchy  ;  and  all  the  moral  horrors  exhibited  of  a  licen- 
tious and  degraded  community. 

On  the  other  hand— Verse  17.    '-Blessed  (art)  thou, 
O  land,  when  thy  king  (is)  the  son  of  nobles,  and  thy 
princes  eat  in  due  season,  for  strength,  and  not  for. 
drunkenness." 

The  king's  being  '^  a  son  of  nobles"  must  not  be  un- 
derstood as  implying  the  sentiment  that  capacity  is  the 
uniform  attendant  of  exalted  birth.  "  A  son  of  nobles," 
evidently  signifies  a  noble-minded  prince,  the  descent 
dant  of  illustrious  progenitors,  possessing  their  talents, 
and  emulating  their  excellences.  It  stands  opposed  to 
the  designation  "a  child"  in  the  preceding  verse.— Our 
Lord  said  on  one  occasion  to  the  Jews,  *•  If  ye  were 
Abraham's  children,  ye  would  do  the  works  of  Abra^ 
ham  ;"  and  we  are  accustomed,  with  a  peculiarity  of 
meaning  which  every  one  understands,  to  say  of  a 
youth,  the  resemblance  of  whose  character  to  that  of 
his  parent  is  particularly  marked  and  striking,  He  is  his 
father's  son.  On  the  same  principle  of  phraseology, 
"  a  son  of  nobles"  is  one  who  does  not  disgrace  his 
birth,  but  who  resembles  the  line  of  eminent  ancestors 
from  whom  he  has  derived  it. 

The  sense  which  we  attached  to  the  phrase  in  the 
former  verse — "  eating  in  the  morning,"  is  confirmed 
by  its  being  placed  in  contrast  with  "  eating  in  due 
season,  for  strength,  and  not  for  drunkenness." — It  is 
equally  plain,  from  the  mention  of  drunkenness,  that 
3  O 


174^  LECTURE  XX. 

''eating,"  in  the  sixteenth  verse,  means  feasting  m 
general,  the  being  addicted  to  banqueting  and  revelry. 
And  opposed  to  this  is  *'  eating  in  due  season,"  not  for 
the  mere  indulgence  of  animal  appetite,  the  sordid  gra- 
tification of  sensual  propensities,  but  for  the  natural  and 
proper  end  of  eating,  the  nourishment  and  invigoratioa 
of  the  bodily  frame  for  the  active  exertion  requisite  in 
the  fulfilment  of  the  duties  of  life.— A  wise,  expe- 
rienced, able,  and  accomplished  monarch,  with  a  tem- 
perate, steady,  and  patriotic  nobility,  devoted  topub;\c 
•business  and  not  to  pleasure, — king  and  courtiers  jointly 
applying  theirs  powers,  from  right  principles,  to  the 
service  of  the  commonwealth,— is  a  blessing  of  inesti- 
mable value  to  a  country.  The  administration  of  affairs 
will  then,  under  the  smile  of  heaven,  be  proportionably 
prosperous ;  and  the  people,  experiencing  the  benefits 
of  good  government,  will  be  loyal  and  contented,  and, 
influenced  by  the  example  of  their  superiors,  sober,  in- 
dustrious, honourable,  and  happy. 

Luxury  is  usually  accompanied  by  slothfulness,— the 
love  of  ease  and  repose  ;  and  in  every  department  of 
business,  private  and  public,  slothfulness  is  the  parent 
of  loss,  decay,  and  ruin:~Verse  18.  "  By  much  sloth- 
fulness the  building  decayeth ;  and  through  idleness  of 
the  hands  the  house  droppeth  through." 

A  house  requires,  not  only  to  be  built,  but  to  be  kept 
up.  If  due  attention  be  not  paid  to  this,— if  a  man,  from 
laziness,  after  having  got  his  habitation  reared,  will  not 
be  at  the  trouble  of  necessary  repairs,  a  damage  that  is 
at  first  trifling  will  imperceptibly  increase,  and  will  be 
followed  by  others,  till  the  building  comes  to  be  in  dan- 
ger. Resolutions  to  have  it  mended  are  daily  formed, 
and  daily  neglected ;  the  indolent  inhabitant  always  find- 
ing some  apology  for  putting  off  till  to-morrow.    To- 


ECCLES.  X.    11 20.  475 

morrow  is  so  near,  that  matters,  he  says  to  himself,  can- 
not be  much  worse  before  then  ;  and  as  it  is  always 
equally  near,  the  excuse  which  it  furnishes  is  always 
equally  valid.  Day  after  day,  as  the  time  for  purposed 
or  half-purposed  exertion  comes  round,  the  sluggard 
yawns  out  to  himself  the  same  convenient  assurance, 
that  a  few  hours  can  make  no  difference ;  till,  by  daily 
procrastination,  the  repair  becomes  impracticable,  and 
the  decayed  and  shattered  tenement  '*  falls  through." — 
All  domestic  and  all  national  affairs  will  necessarily  go 
to  wreck  in  the  hands  of  the  slothful.  "  The  sluggard 
will  not  plow  by  reason  of  the  cold  ;  (therefore)  shall  he 
beg  in  harvest,  and  (have)  nothing."  '*  1  went  by  the 
field  of  the  slothful,  and  by  the  vineyard  of  the  man 
void  of  understanding ;  and,  lo,  it  was  all  grown  over 
with  thorns,  (and)  nettles  had  covered  the  face  thereof; 
and  the  stone  wall  thereof  was  broken  down.  Then  I 
saw,  (and)  considered  (it)  well ;  i  looked  upon  (it,  and) 
received  instruction.  (Yet)  a  little  sleep,  a  little  slum- 
ber, a  little  folding  of  the  hands  to  sleep :  so  shall  thy 
poverty  come  (as)  one  that  travelleth ;  and  thy  want  as 
an  armed  man."  *'  The  hand  of  the  diligent  shall  bear 
rule  j  but  the  slothful  shall  be  under  tribute."  "  The 
drunkard  and  the  glutton  shall  come  to  poverty ;  and 
drowsiness  shall  clothe  (a  man)  with  rags."* — In  this 
last  passage  the  same  connection  is  observable,  as  in  the 
subject  of  lecture,  between  sensuality  and  sloth. 

When  the  rulers  of  a  land  addict  themselves  to  sen- 
sual indulgence  and  profligacy,  the  public  funds  are 
wasted  by  the  demands  of  their  luxury,  and  lavished 
on  the  companions  of  their  intemperance  and  riot ;  by 
which  means  the  treasury  is  impoverished,  and  either 
the  business  of  government,  which  cannot  go  on  for  a 

♦  Prov.  XX.  4.  sxiv.  30—31.  xii.  24,  xxiii,  21. 


476  LECTURE  XX. 

day  without  money,  must  be  at  a  stand,  or  the  royal 
coftbrs  must  be  replenished  by  injurious  and  oppres- 
sive taxation. — Verse  11.  "A  feast  is  made  for  laugh- 
ter, and  wine  maketh  merry  ;  but  money  answereth  all 
(things)."  Feasting  and  wine,  laughter  and  merriment, 
are  transient,  unsubstantial,  and  profitless.  What  can 
they  do  towards  the  great  ends  of  government?  Which 
of  the  purposes  can  they  serve,  which  would  be  effec- 
tually answered  by  the  money  that  is  thrown  away  upon 
them  ?  The  verse  appears  to  be  introduced,  to  aggra- 
vate the  folly  and  criminality  of  the  conduct  reprobated 
in  the  sixteenth  verse,  of  the  princes  of  a  land  "  eating 
in  the  morning," — giving  themselves  to  unseasonable 
and  intemperate  festivity.  The  feast  indeed  yields 
them  laughter  and  mirth.  But  wo  to  the  land,  Vvhen  its 
princes  expend  on  such  frivolous  and  unworthy  objects 
the  money  which  ought  to  be  devoted  to  the  advance- 
ment of  their  country's  prosperity,  and  which,  in  go- 
vernment, equally  as  in  other  departments  of  life  and 
business,  '^answereth  all  (things),"— is  indispensable  to 
every  step  of  its  procedure. 

Such  conduct  on  the  part  of  rulers  presents  a  very 
strong  temptation  to  their  subjects,  while  they  cannot 
but  inwardly  disapprove,  dislike,  and  despise  them,  to 
give  utterance  to  their  feelings  in  the  language  of  re^ 
viling  and  imprecation  :  and  the  chapter  concludes  with 
an  admonition  on  this  subject,  founded  on  considera- 
tions of  prudence,  which  do  not  hov,'ever  imply  the  ex- 
clusion of  higher  principles  :— Verse  20.  ^'  Curse  not 
the  king,  no,  not  in  thy  thought,  and  curse  not  the  rich 
in  thy  bed-chamber:  for  a  bird  of  the  air  shall  carry  the 
voice,  and  that  which  hath  wings  shall  tell  the  matter." 

This  is  an  important  general  caution  : — a  caution,  for 
which  there  is  little  occasion  when  a  land  is  blessed 


ECCLES.  X.  11 — 20.  477 

with  a  king  who  is  the  son  of  nobles,  and  when  its 
princes  eat  in  due  season,  for  strength,  and  not  for  re- 
velry. Against  such  there  is  no  disposition  to  vent  im- 
precations :— they  are  a  blessing,  and  they  arc  blessed 
in  return  : — they  reign  in  the  hearts  of  a  loyal  and 
happy  people.  But,  even  when  it  is  otherwise,  when 
the  king  is  a  child,  and  the  princes  eat  in  the  morning, 
there  is  an  official  respect  due  to  the  magistracy,  inde- 
pendently of  the  personal  character  of  the  magistrate. 
Honour  is  enjoined  to  be  paid  to  governors  as  such. 
*'  Submit  yourselves  to  every  ordinance  of  man,  for  the 
Lord's  sake  :  whether  it  be  to  the  king,  as  supreme  ; 
or  unto  governors,  as  unto  them  that  are  sent  by  him 
for  the  punishment  of  evil-doers,  and  for  the  praise  of 
them  that  do  well.  For  so  is  the  will  of  God,  that  with 
well-doing  ye  may  put  to  silence  the  ignorance  of 
foolish  men  :  as  free,  and  not  using  (your)  liberty  for  a 
cloak  of  maliciousness,  but  as  the  servants  of  God. 
Honour  all  (men.)  Love  the  brotherhood.  Fear  God. 
Honour  the  king."*  All  those  general  principles,  on  the 
ground  of  which  obedience  is  inculcated,  enforce  also 
respectful  behaviour,  and  prohibit  cursing  and  reviling. 
*'  Render  therefore  to  all  their  dues ;  tribute  to  whom 
tribute  (is  due,)  custom  to  whom  custom,  fear  to  whom 
fear,  honour  to  whom  honour."! — "  Conscience  toward 
God"  must  be  our  first  consideration, — a  sense  of  duty 
arising  from  his  authority.  But  the  fear  of  punishment 
from  men, — what  the  aposde  Paul  denominates  "wrath," 
is  a  second ;  which,  although  in  its  nature  inferior,  is 
yet  perfectly  justifiable  and  legitimate. — We  ought  not 
to  do  "  in  thought,"  what  it  is  wrong  in  the  sight  of 
God  to  do  with  our  tongues  :  for  "  the  Lord  searcheth 
all  hearts,  and  understandeth  all  the  imaginations  of  the 

*  1  Pet.  ii.  13—17.  t  ^0^  ^'i'-  ''• 


478  LECTURE  XX. 

thpughts."  The  most  secret  and  deeply  hidden  thought 
of  a  malicious  and  cursing  heart  is  perfectly  known  to 
him,  though  it  never  should  give  itself  expression  in 
words.  And  whilst  all  things  arc  naked  and  open  to 
him, — whilst  our  very  "  thoughts  are  heard  in  heaven;" 
let  us  not  forget  that  kings,  and  the  courtiers  and  the 
satellites  of  kings,  have  a  sense  of  hearing  u usually 
acute,  and  exercise  a  vigilance  which  few  things  can 
escape  : — "  A  bird  of  the  air  shall  carry  the  voice,  and 
that  which  halh  wings  shall  tell  the  matter."  This  is  a 
strong  proverbial  form  of  speech,  expressive  of  the 
strange  and  unaccountable  way  in  which  such  matters 
are  frequently  detected.  They  come  to  light, — nobody 
knows  how.  The  course  they  have  followed  leaves  no 
traces  by  which  it  can  be  searched  out.  It  is  as  if  "a 
bird  of  the  air  had  carried  the  voice."  You  are  as  much 
at  a  loss,  as  the  Syrian  monarch  was,  when  Elisha  the 
prophet  "  told  the  king  of  Israel  the  words  that  he 
spoke  in  his  bed-chamber."  You  are  lost  in  unavailing 
conjecture ;  when  that  which  has  been  "  spoken  in  the 
ear  in  closets,"  or  whispered  in  a  soliloquy  in  your 
most  private  retirement, — that  which  you  have  little 
more  than  thought, — finds  its  way  to  the  throne,  and 
exposes  you  to  jealousy  and  to  vengeance.  "  Curse 
not  the  king,"  therefore,  *'  no,  not  in  thy  thought,  and 
curse  not  the  rich  in  thy  bed-chamber."  Add  prudence 
to  principle.  The  thing  is  in  itself  wrong  ;  and  it  is  at 
the  same  time  hazardous.  It  involves  at  once  the  dis- 
pleasure of  God,  and  the  risk  of  forfeiting  your  head 
to  men. 

Let  us  now  gather  up  some  of  those  inferential  les- 
sons which  are  suggested  by  the  verses. 

The  variety  of  character  with  which  we  must  meet 
in  our  passage  through  the  world,  if  we  mix  at  all  in 


ECCLES,  X.  11 — 20.  479 

the  active  scenes  of  life,  is  very  great ;  and  it  is  a  lesson 
of  no  inferior  consequence,  to  "  walk  in  wisdom"  to- 
ward them  all.  We  must  not,  indeed,  sacrifice  integrity 
and  a  good  conscience.  These  have  no  equivalent ;  no 
price  at  which  they  can  be  disposed  of  without  irrepa- 
rable loss.  But  it  is  a  dut)',  as  well  as  an  advantage,  to 
suit  our  behaviour  to  the  characters  of  those  with  whom 
the  intercourse  of  life  brings  us  into  contact.  From  a 
disdainful  or  a  thoughtless  disregard  of  this  lesson,  from 
treating  men  of  all  tempers  and  characters  alike, — from 
scorning  or  neglecting  to  charm  the  serpent, — much 
contention  and  wrath,  disturbance  and  mischief,  have 
arisen.  Even  folly  itself  is  a  genus  that  comprehends 
under  it  no  inconsiderable  number  of  species  and  va- 
rieties :  and  it  is  far  from  being  a  trifling  or  contempti- 
ble exercise  of  prudence,  so  to  conduct  ourselves  to- 
wards fools  themselves,  as  to  avoid  encouraging  and 
puffing  them  up  in  their  folly,  and  to  save  from  inju- 
rious impression  our  own  reputation  and  interest. 
"  Answer  not  a  fool  according  to  his  folly,"  says  the 
wise  man  elsewhere,  "  lest  thou  also  be  like  unto  him. 
Answer  a  fool  according  to  his  folly,  lest  he  be  wise  in 
his  own  conceit."  The  seeming  contrariety  of  these  di- 
rections is  perhaps  most  simply  explained  by  observing 
the  different  senses  of  the  phrase  "  according  to  his 
folly."  Answer  not  a  fool  in  a  foolish  ?najiner,\Qs{  thou 
also  be  like  unto  him.  Answer  a  fool  as  his  fully  de- 
serves, lest  he  be  wise  in  his  own  conceit. 

Solomon  doubtless  uttered  much  pernicious  folly 
himself,  during  "  the  days  of  his  vanity,"  when  he  re- 
solved on  making  the  trial  of  foolishness  and  madness 
as  a  source  of  enjoyment  and  pleasure.  But  after  those 
days,  so  unworthy  of  him,  were  over,— when  "his  un- 
derstanding returned  to  him,"  and  he  deduced  the  les. 


480  LECTURE  XX, 

spns  of  wisdom  from  the  experience  of  folly,  O  hoiV' 
"gracious"  were  "the  words  of  his  mouth!"  With 
the  meek  humility  and  tender  earnestness  of  one  who 
deeply  and  bitterly  felt  the  absurdity  and  the  crimi- 
nality of  his  own  ways,  he  addresses  his  admonitions  to 
others,  and  seeks  to  win  their  hearts  to  that  which  is 
good.  This  he  does  in  the  book  before  us ;  and  how 
fine  too  are  the  exemplications  of  it  in  the  introduc- 
tory portion  (the  first  nine  chapters)  of  the  book  of 
Proverbs  !  How  affectionate,  how  faithful,  how  fervent, 
how  insinuating,  how  endearing  I  That  youth's  heart 
must  be  sadly  infatuated,  or  wretchedly  hardened,  that 
can  slight  and  resist  counsel  so  administered. 

But  we  know  into  whose  lips,  above  all  others, 
*'^  grace  was  poured."  "  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  rested 
upon  him,— the  spirit  of  wisdom  and  understanding, 
the  spirit  of  counsel  and  might,  the  spirit  of  knowledge 
and  of  the  fear  of  the  Lord."  Truly  gracious  were  the 
words  which  proceeded  out  of  his  mouth;  in  them- 
selves profitable  and  saving;  and,  in  the  manner  of 
them,  uniting  the  divine  dignity  of  "  one  who  had  au- 
thority," with  all  the  mildness  and  engagingness  of 
winning  persuasion  : — "Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek 
and  lowly  in  heart."  In  his  experience  a  mournful  evi- 
dence is  presented,  that  the  most  gracious  words,  the 
fullest  of  wisdom  and  kindness,  will  not  always  secure 
from  hatred  and  opposition,  when  that  which  is  uttered 
is  unpalatable  and  offensive  truth.  There  were  times 
when  his  countrymen  hung  upon  his  lips  with  delighted 
eagerness  ;  all  bearing  him  witness,  and  "  marvelling  at 
the  gracious  words  which  proceeded  out  of  mouth  :" 
but  no  sooner  did  he  touch  a  string  that  was  not  quite 
in  harmony  with  their  national  and  their  provincial 
pride,  than,  as  if  by  a  touch  of  magic,  all  was,  in  an 


ECCLES.  X.   11 20.  481 

instant,  indignation  and  wrath,  and  he  is  hurried  to  the 
brow  of  a  precipice,  to  be  cast  down  headlong.  Yet 
ought  we  always,  notwithstanding  this,  as  far  as  is  con- 
sistent with  fidelity  to  the  interests  of  truth,  to  choose 
acceptable  and  ingratiating  words,  such  as  may  disarm 
resentment,  give  assurance  of  good- will,  and  obtain  for 
whatever  we  may  have  to  say  a  fair  and  favourable  hear- 
ing. "  Let  your  speech  be  always  with  grace." 

If  *'  the  lips  of  a  fool  swallow  up  himself,"  by  bring- 
ing upon  him  the  resentment  of  men,  and  laying  him 
open  to  varied  mischief;  there  is  a  higher  and  more 
alarming  sense  in  which  the  expression  will  be  found 
to  hold  true.  When  men  speak  against  God ;  when 
they  "  contradict  and  blaspheme"  his  testimony  ;  when 
they  talk  of  his  threatenings  with  bravado  scorn,  and 
with  sneering  contempt  of  the  invitations  of  his  mercy; 
their  words  are  the  word^of  folly,  and  they  are  words 
which  in  the  end  will  prove  their  infallible  and  irreme- 
diable ruin.  "  The  kings  of  the  earth  set  themselves, 
and  the  rulers  take  counsel  together,  against  the  Lord, 
and  against  his  Anointed,  (saying,)  Let  us  break  their 
bands  asunder,  and  cast  away  their  cords  from  us.  He 
that  sitteth  in  the  heavens  shall  laugh ;  the  Lord  shall 
have  them  in  derision.  Then  shall  he  speak  unto  them 
in  his  wrath,  and  vex  them  in  his  sore  displeasure." 
"  And  Enoch  also,  the  seventh  from  Adam,  prophesied 
of  these,  saying,  Behold,  the  Lord  cometh  with  ten 
thousands  of  his  saints,  to  execute  judgment  upon  all, 
and  to  convict  all  that  are  ungodly  among  them  of  all 
their  ungodly  deeds  which  they  have  ungodly  com- 
mitted, and  of  all  their  hard  (speeches)  which  ungodly 
sinners  have  spoken  against  him."*  Ah!  then  indeed 
"  the  lips  of  the  fool  will  swallow  up  himself."  He  will 

♦  Psal.  ii,  2— 5.  Judc  14—15 

3  P 


483  LECTURE  XX. 

be  found  to  have  employed  them  against  his  own  lifej 
Having  despised  and  rejected  the  offered  mercy  of  God 
in  this  world  ;  instead  of  "  gracious"  words  from  the 
lips  of  the  *'  meek  and  lowly"  Redeemer,  he  shall  hear 
the  fearful  sentence  of  the  righteous  and  offended  Judge, 
"  Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  pre- 
pared for  the  devil  and  his  angels." 

As  it  is  our  incumbent  duty  to  seek,  by  all  lawful 
means,  the  good  of  our  country,  let  it  be  our  prayer  to 
Him  who  "  has  the  hearts  of  all  in  his  hand,"  and  who 
"giveth  to  man  understanding,"  that  its  kings,  and 
princes,  and  nobles,  may  be  men  at  once  of  ability,  of 
integrity,  and  of  public  and  private  virtue ;  men,  like 
those  of  Issachar,  "  having  understanding  of  the  times, 
to  know  what  ought  to  be  done :"  that  its  "  officers 
may  be  peace,  and  its  exactors  righteousness," — "  fear- 
ing God,  and  hating  covetoysness:" — that  thus,  under 
the  smile  and  blessing  of  the  Most  High,  it  may  be  well 
with  our  beloved  country,  both  now,  and  in  generations 
yet  to  come. 

My  Christian  brethren, — in  the  spiritual  kingdom  of 
which  we  are  subjects,  the  King  is  "  the  holy  One  and 
the  just,"  infinite  in  wisdom  and  knowledge,  as  well  as 
in  holiness  and  grace.  No  "  wo"  can  ever  be  sounded 
against  Zion  on  account  of  the  character  of  her  King*. 
It  combines  in  it  every  excellence  that  can  engage  the 
loyalty  of  his  subjects,  and  insure  the  prosperity  of  his 
government.  "  Righteousness  shall  be  the  girdle  of  his 
loins,  and  faithfulness  the  girdle  of  his  reins:— and  he 
shall  not  judge  after  the  sight  of  his  eyes,  neither  re- 
prove after  the  hearing  of  his  ears  ;  but  with  righteous- 
ness shall  he  judge  the  poor,  and  reprove  with  equity  for 
the  meek  of  the  earth :  and  he  shall  smite  the  earth 
with  the  rod  of  his  mouth,  and  with  the  breath  of  hi^ 


ECCLES.  X.  11 — 20.  483 

lips  shall  he  slay  the  wicked."  Nothing  can  go  wrong 
under  an  administration  like  this;  in  which  infinite 
goodness  is  directed  by  infinite  wisdom,  and  the  pur- 
poses of  both  are  effected  by  infinite  power.  "The 
mountains  shall  bring  peace  to  the  people,  and  the  lit- 
tle hills,  by  righteousness. — In  his  days  shall  the  righ- 
teous flourish,  and  abundance  of  peace  so  long  as  the 
moon  endureth."  For  this  just,  and  good,  and  wise, 
and  mighty  King  shall  reign  for  ever.  His  sceptre  is 
intransferable.  "  His  dominion  is  an  everlasting  domi- 
nion, which  shall  not  pass  away,  and  his  kingdom  that 
which  shall  not  be  destroyed."  No  curses  of  his  go- 
vernment escape  the  lips,  or  are  formed  in  the  hearts, 
of  his  happy  subjects.  "  Men  shall  be  blessed  in  him  : 
all  nations  shall  call  him  blessed." 

Remember  further,  my  brethren,  that  the  saying  in 
the  eighteenth  verse,  respecting  the  evil  tendencies  of 
indolence  and  sloth,  is  applicable,  in  the  full  emphasis 
of  it,  to  spiritual  as  well  as  to  temporal  things.  Spiri- 
tual riches  are  acquired  by  diligence  and  vigilance ;  and 
spiritual  declension  and  poverty  are  the  natural  and  in- 
variable results  of  negligence  in  the  use  of  those  means 
which  God  has  appointed  for  the  preservation  and  ad- 
vancement of  the  Divine  life  in  the  soul.  "  Work  out 
your  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling ;  for  it  is 
God  that  worketh  in  you,  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his 
good  pleasure."  The  word  and  ordinances  of  God  are 
the  means.  They  must  be  used  with  constancy  and  ap- 
plication of  mind,  with  the  earnestness  which  arises 
from  pleasure,  with  a  fervent  desire  to  profit  by  them, 
and,  in  order  to  this,  with  believing  prayer  for  Divine 
influence  to  attend  them  all  with  eflicacy. 

Exertion  is  also  necessary,  combined  and  unwearied 
exertion,  for  maintaining  and  building  up  the  spiritual 


484  LECTURE  XX. 

house  or  temple  of  the  living  God.  It  is  true  that,  in 
one  sense,  this  is  the  work  of  the  great  Architect  alone  : 
— "  Not  by  might,  nor  by  power,  but  by  my  Spirit, 
saith  the  Lord  of  hosts."  "Behold  the  man  whose 
name  (is)  the  branch  :  and  he  shall  grow  up  out  of 
his  place,  and  he  shall  build  the  temple  of  the  Lord : 
even  he  shall  build  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  and  he  shall 
bear  the  glory."*  But  the  Master  Builder  employs 
workmen.  He  carries  on  his  designs  by  the  instrumen- 
tality of  human  agents,— by  the  efforts  of  his  people, 
and  especially  of  his  faithful  servants  in  the  ministry 
of  the  word.  Let  not  our  hearts  then  be  reluctant,  and 
let  not  our  hands  be  slL<v:k.  Let  not  this  building  decay 
by  your  slothfulness ;  let  not  this  house  drop  through, 
through  the  idleness  of  your  hands.  Let  it  not  be  said, 
If  Zion  prospers,  it  is  not  by  your  means.  The  work 
is  excellent  and  honourable,  involving  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  highest  interests  of  men.  Let  every  one  be 
emulous  to  place  a  "  living  stone"  in  the  spiritual 
Temple  ;  not  merely  to  contemplate  its  progress  with 
pleasure,  but  to  help  it  forward  with  zeal ;  till,  rising  in 
all  its  loveliness,  and  in  all  its  grandeur,  it  is  at  length 
completed,  and  the  top-stone  brought  forth  with  shout- 
ings — "Grace,  grace,  unto  it!" 

Let  me  conclude,  by  reminding  sinners,  that  if  there 
be  hazard  in  the  most  secret  imaginations  and  whispers 
of  rebellion  against  an  earthly  monarch,  the  peril  must 
be  incomparably  more  imminent,  that  arises  from  every 
deed,  or  word,  or  thought,  of  insubordination  to  the 
*'  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords."  Nothing  can 
escape  him.  The  unuttered  devices  of  the  heart  lie 
naked  to  his  inspection.  He  "  seeth  in  secret."  "Hell 
is  open  before  him,  and  destruction  hath  no  covering." 

*  Zech.  iv.  6.  vi.  12. 


ECCLES.  X.  11 — SO.  485 

**  There  is  no  darkness,  nor  shadow  of  death,  where 
the  workers  of  iniquity  may  hide  themselves." 

.  "  who  can  resist  th'  almighty  arm 
That  made  the  starry  sky  ? 
Or  who  elude  the  certain  glance 
Of  God's  all-seeing  eye  ?" 

He  needs  no  "  bird  of  the  air  to  carry  the  voice,  or  that 
which  hath  wings  to  tell  the  matter."  **  His  eyes  run 
to  and  fro  through  the  whole  earth,  beholding  the  evil 
and  the  good."  His  ear  is  ever  open.  He  slumbers  not 
nor  sleeps.  And  what  he  sees  and  hears  is  recorded  in 
a  mind  by  which  nothing  is  forgotten,  and  nothing, 
amidst  the  infinite  multiplicity  of  its  remembrances, 
diminished  in  certainty  or  in  accuracy,  by  the  lapse  of 
time. — "  Curse  not  this  King,  no,  not  in  thy 
thought."  Your  curses  cannot  injure  Him :  but  his 
curse  coming  down  upon  you,  will  sink  you  to  the 
lowest  hell. 


LECTURE  XXI. 


ECCLES.  xi.   1 8. 

1  "  Cast  thy  bread  ufion  the  waters  :  for  thou  shall  find  it  after  many 

2  days.  Give  a/iortion  to  seven,  and  also  to  eight;  for  thou  knonoest 
S  not  what  evil  shall  be  ufion  the  earth.  If  the  clouds  be  full  of  rain,  they 

emfity  C  themselves  J  ufion  the  earth:  and  if  the  tree  fall  toward  the 
south,  or  toward  the  north,  in  the  filace  where  the  tree  falleth,  there  it 

4  shall  be.  He  that  observeth  the  wind  shall  not  sow  ;  and  he  that  re- 

5  gardeth  the  clouds  shall  not  reap.  As  thou  knowest  tiot  what  (is J 
the  way  of  the  s/iirit,  fnorj  how  the  bones  fdo  grow  J  in  the  womb 
of  her  that  is  with  child  ;  even  so  thou  knowest  not  the  works  of  God 

6  who  maketh  all.  In  the  morning  sow  thy  seed,  and  in  the  evening 
withhold  not  thine  hand :  for  thou  knowest  not  whether  shall  firos- 
fier,  either  this  or  that,  or  whether  they  both  C shall  be)  alike  good. 

7  Truly  the  light  (is J  sweet,  arid  a  fileasant  ("thing  it  is _)  for  the  eyes 

8  to  behold  the  sun  :  but  if  a  man  live  many  years,  (and J  rejoice  in 
them  all;  yet  let  him  remember  the  days  of  darkness  ;  for  they  shall 
be  many.    All  that  cometh  fisj  va?iity." 


Several  times,  in  the  preceding  part  of  this  book, 
we  have  found  Solomon  speaking  of  the  proper  way  of 
enjoying  the  bounties  of  Divine  providence,  with  gra- 
titude, cheerfulness,  and  moderation  ;  occasionally  hint- 
ing at  the  use  which  ought  to  be  made  of  them  for  the 
temporal  and  spiritual  benefit  of  others.  "  I  know  that 
there  is  no  good  in  them,  but  for  a  man  to  rejoice  and 
TO  DO  GOOD  in  his  life — On  this  latter  topic  he  en- 
larges in  this  chapter ;  exhibiting,  in  various  and  very 
interesting  and  beautiful  light,  the  virtue  of  benevo- 
lence, and  the  motives  to  its  practical  cultivation. 

The  passage,  I  am  aware,  has  by  some  been  applied 
to  the  virtue  of  industry,  rather  than  of  liberality  j  and 


ECCLES.  XI.  1 — 8.  487 

this  view  of  it  has  been  supported  by  plausible  reasons, 
and  ingenious  criticisms.  I  am  satisfied,  however,  that 
the  ordinary  interpretation  is  preferable ;  that  in  a  trea- 
tise on  the  sources  of  happiness,  it  is  but  reasonable  to 
expect  some  special  notice  of  the  duties  and  rewards  of 
benevolence;  and  that  to  this  the  figurative  illustrations 
are  admirably  appropriate. 

If  a  man  were  seen  scattering  corn  on  the  surface 
of  water  that  had  inundated  and  overspread  the  fields,  it 
might  appear  the  act  of  a  fool ;  the  witless  waste  and 
unwarrantable  destruction  of  the  "  precious  seed. "  But 
the  seed,  on  the  inundation  subsiding,  might  be  de- 
posited in  a  loamy  and  fertile  bed,  might  spring  up  in 
rich  luxuriance,  and  yield  in  future  days  a  produce  of 
a  hundred  fold.  To  some  such  practice  as  this,  there 
seems  to  be  a  beautiful  allusion  in  the  opening  of  this 
chapter : 

Verse  1.  "  Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters,  for  thou 
shalt  find  it  after  many  days." 

The  word  in  this  verse  translated  "  bread"  is,  in 
Isaiah  xxviii.  28.  rendered  "bread-corn:" — "Bread- 
(corn)  is  bruised,  because  he  will  not  ever  be  thrashing 
it,  nor  break  it  with  the  wheel  of  his  cart,  nor  bruise  it 
with  his  horsemen."  The  same  is  evidently  the  mean- 
ing of  it  here. — Some,  indeed,  have  fancied  that  the 
absolute  hopelessness  of  "  casting  bread  upon  the  face 
of  the  waters,"  is  designed  to  represent  the  duty  of 
beneficence  and  liberality  even  where  there  docs  not 
exist  the  slightest  prospect  of  a  return;  and  they  object 
to  the  view  I  am  now  giving  of  the  allusion,  that  the 
man  who,  in  the  case  supposed,  scatters  his  seed-corn 
on  the  waters,  does  it  with  an  express  view  to  a  future 
crop. — But  is  this  really  a  well-founded  objection  ?  It 
is  true  that  it  is  our  duty  to  "  do  good  and  lend,  hoping; 


48^  LECTUIIE  XXI. 

for  nothing  again,'''' — ^that  is,  for  no  return  from  the 
objects  of  our  kindness.  But  this  does  not  preclude 
our  "  having  respect  unto  the  recompense  of  the  re- 
ward" from  a  higher  quarter.  Nay,  the  prospect  of  an 
increase  to  ourselves,  in  temporal  or  spiritual  good,  is, 
in  almost  all  the  passages  that  inculcate  liberality,  held 
out  as  an  encouragement  to  the  practice  of  the  duty. — 
"  Honour  the  Lord  with  thy  substance,  and  with  the 
first-fruits,  of  all  thine  increase  :  so  shall  thy  barns  be 
filled  with  plenty,  and  thy  presses  shall  burst  out  with 
new  wine."  '^  He  that  hath  pity  upon  the  poor  lendeth 
to  the  Lord ;  and  that  which  he  hath  given  will  he  pay 
him  again."  "  When  thou  makest  a  dinner  or  a  supper, 
call  not  thy  friends,  nor  thy  brethren,  neither  thy  kins- 
men, nor  (thy)  rich  neighbours;  lest  they  also  bid  thee 
again,  and  a  recompense  be  made  thee.  But  when  thou 
makest  a  feast,  call  the  poor,  the  maimed,  the  lame,  the 
blind ;  and  thou  shall  be  blessed :  for  they  cannot  re- 
compense thee  ;  for  thou  shalt  be  recompensed  at  the 
resurrection  of  the  just."  "But  this  (I  say,)  He  who 
soweth  sparingly  shall  reap  also  sparingly  ;  and  he  who 
soweth  bountifully  shall  reap  also  bountifully."  *'  Charge 
them  that  are  rich  in  this  world,  that  they  be  not  high- 
minded,  nor  trust  in  uncertain  riches,  but  in  the  living 
God,  who  giveth  us  richly  all  things  to  enjoy  ;  that  they 
do  good,  that  they  be  rich  in  good  works,  ready  to  dis- 
tribute, willing  to  communicate;  laying  up  in  store  for 
themselves  a  good  foundation  against  the  time  to  come, 
that  they  may  lay  hold  on  eternal  life."* — The  obvious 
meaning  of  all  such  passages  is,  that  the  liberal  distri- 
bution of  the  bountiful,  prompted  and  regulated  by 
Scriptural  principles,  will,  in  one  form  or  another,  yield 

♦  Prov.  iii.  9,  10.    xix.  17.      Luke  xiv,  12—14.     2  Cor.  ix.  6. 
1  Tim.  vi.  17—19- 


EcCLES.  xt.  1—^8.  489 

him  a  profitable  result :  for  "  God  (Is)  not  unrighteous," 
says  the  writer  of  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  "  to  for- 
get your  work  and  labour  of  love,  which  ye  have  show* 
ed  toward  his  Name,  in  that  ye  have  ministered  to  the 
saints,  and  do  minister."* — The  very  same  motive  is 
presented  in  the  verse  before  us :  "  Cast  thy  bread- 
corn  on  the  waters  :  for  thou  shalt  find  it  after  many 
days."  It  may  not  always  yield  to  you  in  this  world  a 
return  in  kind  ;  but  it  is  not  forgotten  of  God  ;  it  is  not 
lost.  Every  work  of  charity  performed,  every  gift  of 
charity  bestowed,  by  his  people,  from  love  to  his  name 
and  regard  to  his  glory,  is  remembered  by  him  for 
good.  The  charity  which  he  delights  in  and  rewards, 
is  not,  indeed,  that  which  plumes  itself  on  its  doings 
as  acts  of  merit,  and  distributes  its  alms  as  purchase- 
money  for  heaven.  It  is  that  which,  disowning  all  self- 
confidence  and  self-glorying,  is  influenced  by  humble 
and  lively  gratitude  for  the  riches  of  Divine  mercy, 
gives  freely  because  it  has  freely  received,  testifying 
its  thankfulness  for  the  grace  of  Him,  who  "  though 
he  was  rich,  for  our  sakes  became  poor,  that  we  through 
his  poverty  might  be  made  rich."  It  "  does  good  t6 
all  as  it  has  opportunity,  especially  to  those  who  are  of 
the  household  of  faith;"  and  whatever  is  done  to  his 
disciples  for  his  sake,  the  blessed  Redeemer  will  at  last 
acknowledge  as  having  been  done  to  himself; — "  I  was 
hungry,  and  ye  gave  me  meat ;  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye 
gave  me  drink  ;  I  was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in ; 
naked,  and  ye  clothed  me  ;  I  was  sick,  and  ye  visited 
me ;  I  was  in  prison,  and  ye  came  unto  me."  And 
when  the  righteous,  of  whom  so  very  small  a  propor- 
tion enjoyed  the  opportunity  of  performing  acts  of  kind- 
ness to  himself  in  person,  are  represented  as  expressing 

*  lleb.vi.  10. 

3Q 


490  l^ECTUilE  XXI. 

their  surprise  at  his  language, — *'  Lord,  when  saw  we 
thee  hungry,  and  fed  thee  ?  or  thirsty,  and  gave  thee 
drink  ?  When  saw  we  thee  a  stranger,  and  took  thee  in? 
or  naked,  and  clothed  thee  ?  Or  when  saw  we  thee  sick 
or  in  prison  and  came  unto  thee  ?" — he  explains  his 
words  on  the  principle  that  has  been  mentioned,  of 
identifying  himself  with  his  people,  whom  "  he  is  not 
ashamed  to  call  his  brethren :"— "  Verily  I  say  unto 
you,  inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  to  one  of  the  least  of  these 
my  brethren,  ye  did  it  unto  me."* 

Our  liberality  ought  to  be  as  widely  diffusive,  as  the 
measure  of  our  prosperity  will  admit : — Verse  2.  "  Give 
a  portion  to  seven  and  also  to  eight ;  for  thou  knowest 
not  what  evil  shall  be  upon  the  earth." 

"  Give  o  j&or/zo«  .•" — The  expression  is  borrowed, 
cither  from  the  custom  of  masters  of  feasts  sending 
portions  from  before  them  to  the  different  guests  at 
table  ;  as  when  Joseph  sent  messes  to  his  brethren,  dis- 
tinguishing Benjamin  above  the  rest  by  the  largeness 
of  the  supply  alotted  to  him  rf — or  from  the  practice, 
on  festive  occasions,  of  distributing  gratuitously  to  the 
poor.  "  Go  your  way,"  said  Nehemiah  to  the  Israel- 
ites, "  eat  the  fat,  and  drink  the  sweet,  and  send  por- 
tions unto  them  for  whom  nothing  is  prepared  ;  for 
(this)  day  (is)  holy  unto  our  Lord  :  neither  be  ye  sorry, 
for  the  joy  of  the  Lord  is  your  strength.":!:  The  Jews 
commemorated  their  providential  deliverance  from  the 
exterminating  vengeance  of  Haman,  by  *'  days  of  feast- 
ing and  joy,  and  of  sending  portions  one  to  another,  and 
gifts  to  the  poor.^^—^^  Give  a  portion  to  seven,  arid  also 
to  eight  :^^ — that  is,  sow  bountifully,  and  not  sparingly. 
You  are  in  danger  of  keeping  within,  rather  than  of 
going  beyond,  the  proper  boundaries.    You  should, 

♦  Matt.  XXV.  34—40.      f  Gen.  xliii.  34.      t  Neh.  viii.  10.      §  Esth.  ix.22 


ECCLES.  XI.   1 8.  49  t 

therefore,  be  jealous  over  yourselves,  and  allow  none  to 
go  unprovided  for  whom  it  is  in  your  power  to  supply. 
Seven  is  one  of  the  numbers  significant  in  Scripture 
phraseology  of  abundance  and  completeness.  Go  he- 
yond  it,  rather  than  keep  within  it ;  leaning  to  the  side 
on  which  you  are  naturally,  from  the  selfish  tendencies 
of  the  heart,  most  prone  to  err. 

This  cheerful  and  diffusive  liberality  is  further  en- 
forced by  another  and  a  very  powerful  consideration  : 
—"for  thou  knowest  not  what  evil  shall  be  upon  the 
earth." — This  uncertainty  of  human  affairs  has  been 
frequently  noticed,  in  different  connections,  in  the  pre- 
ceding part  of  this  book.  It  forms,  indeed,  one  of  its 
principal  themes.  The  present  may  be  a  season  of  pros- 
perity ;  but  it  may  very  soon  be  succeeded  by  a  time 
of  calamity  and  distress  ;  and  our  ignorance  of  what  is 
coming  should  lead  us  to  make  a  proper  use  of  the 
bounty  of  Heaven  whilst  it  remains  in  our  possession  : 
-for 

In  the  Jir St  place y  we  may  soon,  in  Divine  provi- 
dence, be  deprived  of  the  means,  and  consequenth'  of 
the  ability,  of  doing  good. — No  man,  therefore,  should 
look  forward  to  a  time  when  he  will  begin  to  lay  out  his 
substance  for  benevolent  purposes ;  but  each  should 
use  what  he  has  now.  The  contrary  indicates  a  want 
of  disposition,  which  is  not  very  likely  to  leave  him 
when  his  own  convenient  time  arrives;  and  long  too 
ere  that  time  comes,  his  riches  may  *^  make  to  them- 
bclves  wings  and  fly  away  as  an  eagle  towards  heaven." 

Secondly-  When  this  does  happen,  it  becomes  a  sad 
reflection,  a  melancholy  addition  to  a  man's  unhappi- 
ness,  that  he  has  not,  during  his  period  of  prosperity, 
been  making  a  proper  use  of  the  means  of  good  put 
into  his  hands,— the  use  of  them  enjoined  by  the  Giver  : 


49^  LECTURE  XXI. 

— that  he  has  selfishly  wrapt  up  his  talent  in  a  napkin, 
and  kept  it  close  from  the  poor  and  needy, — till  it  is 
gone, — unexpectedly  gone,  and  his  opportunities  irre- 
deemably lost.  The  opposite  reflection  is  an  animating 
support  to  the  mind  under  the  most  impoverishing  and 
depressing  bereavements ;  when,  in  proportion  to  the 
extent  of  our  means,  we  can  say  with  Job,— *'  When 
the  ear  heard  (me,)  then  it  blessed  me;  and  when  the 
eye  saw  (me,)  it  bear  witness  unto  me  :  because  I  de- 
livered the  poor  that  cried,  the  fatherless  also,  and  (him 
that  had)  none  to  help  him  :  the  blessing  of  him  that 
was  ready  to  perish  came  upon  me ;  and  I  caused  the 
widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy.— I  was  eyes  to  the  blind, 
and  feet  (was)  I  to  the  lame.  I  (was)  a  father  to  the 
l)oor."* 

Thirdly.  It  is  frequently  of  consequence  to  us,  to 
secure  friends  in  the  time  of  our  prosperity,  against  the 
day  of  possible  calamity  and  suffering.— It  sometimes 
happens,  that  entire  reverses  take  place  in  the  circum- 
stances of  men  ;  and  that  he  who  has  assisted  and  re- 
lieved others,  requires  relief  and  assistance  from  the 
very  objects  of  his  kindness.  It  appears  to  be  to  such 
vicissitudes  in  human  condition  that  Paul  refers,  when, 
exhorting  the  Christians  at  Corinth  to  liberality  in  their 
contributions  for  the  poor  saints  who  were  at  Jerusa- 
lem, he  says  to  them :  *'  For  (I  mean)  not  that  other 
men  be  eased,  and  you  burdened  :  but  by  an  equality, 
(that)  now  at  this  time  your  abundance  (may  be  a  sup- 
ply) for  their  want,  that  their  abundance  also  may  be 
(a  supply)  for  your  want,  that  there,  may  be  equality  ; 
as  it  is  written,  He  that  (had  gathered)  much  had  no- 
thing over,  and  he  that  (had  gathered)  little  had  no 
l3ck:"t— every  man  who,  in  the  collecting  of  the  man, 

*  ;ub.  xxix.  U— 13,  15,  16.  j  ?  Cor.  viii.  13^15. 


ECCLES.  XI.  1 — 8.  493 

na,  to  which  the  last  expression  alludes,  was  found,  in 
the  general  measurement,  to  have  gathered  more  than 
the  daily  allowance  of  an  onier  for  each  member  of  his 
house-hold,  supplying  by  his  superfluity  the  deficiency 
of  his  neighbours.— By  the  benevolent  appropriation  of 
a  part  of  our  substance,  friends  may  be  acquired,  whose 
grateful  services  may,  at  a  future  time,  and  in  altered 
circumstances,  be  of  essential  benefit  to  us.  And  if, 
in  our  time  of  need,  they  should  disappoint  us,  and 
give  us  to  experience  the  bitterness  of  ingratitude,  still 
we  shall  be  able  to  look  up  with  confidence  to  the  Au- 
thor of  our  blessings  and  our  trials;  whose  providence 
will  not  forsake  or  leave  destitute  those  who  had  en- 
deavoured to  act  as  faithful  stewards  of  his  bounty,  so 
long  as  he  had  been  pleased  to  continue  it  with  them. 
In  what  opposite  ways  may  the  same  consideration 
be  applied !  The  very  circumstance  which  Solomon 
here  urges  as  a  reason  for  present  and  generous  libe- 
rality, the  covetous  worldly-minded  man  pleads  as  an 
apology  for  hoarding.  I  know  not,  he  says,  "  what  evil 
may  come  upon  the  earth  :"  1  must,  therefore,  take 
good  care  of  what  I  have  got.  I  must  reserve  it  to  meet 
the  contingencies  of  futurity.  Who  can  tell  but  I  may 
otherwise  come  to  dependence,  and  die  poor  myself? — 
A  prudent  precaution,  to  prevent  our  becoming  a  bur- 
den upon  others  in  the  time  of  age  and  infirmity,  is  by 
no  means  to  be  condemned.  But  it  is  an  awful  perver- 
sion, when  the  apprehension  of  future  possibilities  is 
made  an  excuse  for  griping  avarice.  How  much  more 
noble  the  use  that  is  made,  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  of  our 
ignorance  of  the  future !  Instead  of  withholding  from 
others  on  this  ground,  says  Solomon, — rather  give  while 
you  have  to  give, — and  give  liberally; — lose  not  the 
precious  opportunity; — "it  is  more  blessed  to  give 


494  LECTURE  XXI. 

than  to  receive;" — enjoy,  then,  the  pleasure  of  present 
beneficence ; — "  give  a  portion  to  seven,  and  also  to 
eight ;  for  thou  knowest  not  what  evil  shall  be  upon 
the  earth." 

He  then,  by  a  very  beautiful  figure,  illustrates  the 
duty  of  the  man  who  enjoys  the  munificence  of  heaven 
■ — Verse  3.  '^  If  the  clouds  be  full  of  rain,  they  empty 
(themselves)  upon  the  earth." 

From  earth,  and  seas,  and  lakes,  and  rivers,  the  sun 
exhales  immense  quantities  of  watery  vapours.  These 
condense  in  the  atmosphere  into  clouds ;  and  the  clouds 
do  not  retain  their  precious  treasure,  but,  agreeably  to 
the  kind  intention  of  the  wonder-working  Author  of 
nature,  discharge  their  contents  upon  the  earth  in  re- 
freshing and  fertilizing  showers.  A  bountiful  man  is  a 
*'  cloud  full  of  rain"  to  the  parched  wilderness  of  po- 
verty. A  parsimonious  niggard  is  a  "  cloud  without 
water,"  yielding  nothing  but  disappomtment  and  mor- 
tification to  the  anxious  expectant  of  a  blessing.  In  the 
sultry  climate  of  the  East,  a  cloud  charged  with  rain  is 
sometimes  inexpressibly  precious.  The  very  look,  the 
very  thought  of  it,  is  refreshment.  And  as  the  clouds 
are  formed,  by  the  provision  of  nature,  for  the  express 
purpose  of  watering  the  earth,  so  is  the  bounty  of  pro- 
vidence  bestowed  on  men,  not  merely  for  themselves, 
but  *'  that  they  may  have  to  give  to  him  that  needeth." 
They  receive,  that  they  may  impart.  They  are  blessed, 
that  they  may  be  a  blessing. 

The  meaning  of  the  remaining  clause  of  the  same 
verse  is  not  so  obvious  : — "  and  if  the  tree  fall  toward 
the  south,  or  toward  the  north,  in  the  place  where  the 
tree  falleth,  there  it  shall  be." — These  words  are  very 
commonly  used  to  express  the  sentiment,  that  whatever 
character  belongs  to  a  man  when  he  quits  the  world. 


ECCLES.  XI.  1 — 8.  495 

that  character  he  must  retain ;  there  can  be  no  subsc- 
quent  charge  :  as  death  finds  him  it  finally  fixes  him  ; 
pronouncing  the  sentence,  '<  He  that  is  unjust,  let  him 
be  unjust  still ;  and  he  that  is  filthy,  let  him  be  filthy 
still ;  and  he  that  is  righteous,  let  him  be  righteous  still ; 
and  he  that  is  holy,  let  him  be  holy  still."— This  yields 
a  good  sense ;  and  one  by  no  means  remote  from  the 
general  scope  of  the  passage.  The  possessor  of  heaven's 
bounty,  is  reminded  that  he  must  fall  before  the  stroke 
of  death ;  that  when  he  does  fall,  his  state  is  for  ever 
fixed,  according  to  his  character  and  works  while  he 
lived :  and  a  motive  is  thus  set  before  him  to  benevolent 
activity  and  pious  effort,  drawn  from  the  uncertainty  of 
life,  and  from  the  fearful  consequences  of  being  taken 
away  amidst  a  course  of  selfish  prosperity  and  worldly- 
mindedness,  of  large  promises,  it  may  be,  for  the  fu- 
ture, and  entire  neglect  of  present  duty,  and  having  his 
state  fixed  for  ever,  beyond  the  possibility  of  change  or 
remedy. 

From  the  connection,  however,  the  general  import 
of  the  figure  seems  rather  to  be,  the  security  of  a  return 
to  the  man  of  principled  beneficence. — In  whatever 
quarter  thy  bounty  is  dispersed,  thou  shall  find  it  again. 
As  where  tlie  tree  falls  it  lies, — so  thy  charity  is  not 
lost.  Give  in  all  directions  ;  for  thou  shalt  find  it  again  : 
— thy  recompense  is  secure.  It  is  the  same  sentiment, 
otherwise  expressed,  with  that  in  the  first  verse,— "  for 
thou  shalt  find  it  after  many  days." 

This  is  a  subject,  respecting  which  men  arc  ever 
disposed  to  find,  and  ingenious  at  inventing,  excuses. 
Their  circumstances,  their  families,  their  necessary  ex- 
penditure, the  uncertainties  of  business,  the  ingratitude 
and  the  vices  of  the  poor,— and  especially  their  fears 
about  what  may  happen  ; — these,  with  other  apologies. 


496  LECTURE  XXI. 

they  plead  to  themselves  and  to  one  another,  for  not 
giving,  or  at  least  for  not  giving  now, — for  satisfying 
themselves  at  present  with  hoping  what  they  may  be 
able  to  do  hereafter, — for  transacting  the  business  of 
charity,  not  by  cash  payments,  but  by  promissory  notes 
at  distant  dates,  which,  when  the  time  of  demand  ar- 
rives, they  find  fresh  excuses  for  renewing. — It  is 
against  the  timid  withholders  of  present  charity,  that 
the  fourth  verse  is  directed  : — 

*^  He  that  observeth  the  wind  shall  not  sow ;  and  he 
that  regardeth  the  clouds  shall  not  reap." — The  hus- 
bandman must  take  his  seed-time  and  harvest  as  they 
are  sent  to  him  by  the  God  of  the  seasons.  The  weather 
is  not  in  his  choice.  If  he  minds  every  cold  wind  that 
blows,  or  every  cloud  that  gathers  in  the  sky  and 
threatens  a  shower,  he  may  lose  both  his  spring  and 
his  autumn.  Day  after  day  may  pass,  while  he  is  mark- 
ing the  direction  of  the  wind,  and  gazing  on  the  face 
of  the  sky,  in  timid  hesitation  whether  he  may  safely 
scatter  his  seed,  or  put  in  his  sickle  ;  till  the  proper  sea- 
son  is  gone,  and  leaves  him  nothing  but  fruitless  re- 
grets that  he  cannot  recall  it. — The  lesson  taught  by 
the  comparison  is,  that  we  should  fulfil  the  duties  of 
benevolence  when  it  is  in  our  power  ;  embracing  with 
alacrity  every  opportunity  of  doing  good  ;  not  startled 
and  prevented  by  every  little  circumstance  that  may 
occasion  incovenience  or  apprehehension ;  deferring, 
and  deferring,  from  excessive  scrupulosity,  and  mor- 
bid fearfulness  of  possible  mistakes  and  impositions, 
till  our  opportunities  of  usefulness  are  irrecoverably 
gone. 

But  let  not  this  principle  be  pushed  to  an  extreme. 
Let  it  not  be  considered  as  entirely  precluding  the  ex- 
ercise of  prudence  and  caution.     In  the  whole  of  the 


ECCLES.  XI.  1 — 8.  497 

business  of  life  these  are  serviceable,  and  in  few  things 
more  so  than  in  the  practice  of  benevolence.  The  farmer, 
although  he  cannot  always  get  weather  in  every  respect 
to  his  mind,  will  not,  however,  purposely  choose  an  un- 
favourable day,  either  for  sowing  or  for  reaping.  So 
ought  we  to  select  our  objects  and  our  opportunities  to 
the  best  advantage,  lest  we  should  bestow  charity  that 
will  be  unproductive  of  good,  or  even  fruitful  of  evil, — 
being  conferred  on  improper  persons,  at  unseasonable 
times,  or  in  an  unsuitable  manner. 

We  ought  especially  to  beware  of  allowing  our  fears 
about  the  future,  to  preponderate  against  the  sense  of 
present  duty  ;  for  this  kind  of  irresolute  apprehensive- 
ness  would  lead  us  to  refrain  from  doing  any  thing  that 
promises  to  be  productive  of  good,  because  in  every 
case  there  is  a  possibility  of  failure, — the  future  ar- 
rangements of  providence  being  entirely  beyond  our 
penetration  :  — 

Verse  5.  ''  As  thou  knowest  not  what  (is)  the  way 
of  the  spirit,  (nor)  how  the  bones  (do  grow)  in  the 
womb  of  her  that  is  with  child  ;  even  so  thou  knowest 
not  the  works  of  God  who  maketh  all." 

By  "the  way  of  the  spirit,"  some  understand  the 
way  of  the  wind.  "  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth, 
and  thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  tell 
whence  it  cometh,  or  whither  it  goeth."  And  this  be- 
ing used  by  our  Lord  as  an  emblem  of  the  mysterious 
operations  of  the  Spirit  of  God  upon  the  minds  of  men, 
— ("  So  is  every  one  that  is  born  of  the  Spirit,")— to 
these  operations  the  expression  before  us  has  by  others 
been  conceived  to  refer. — I  am  inclined  to  think,  how- 
ever, that  "  the  spirit"  here  means,  neither  the  wind, 
nor  the  Holy  Ghost,  but  the  human  soul.  Its  connec- 
tion with  what  follows  in  the  verse,  gives  more  than 
3  R 


49^  LECTURE  XXI. 

probability  to  this  interpretation.   ''  Thou  knowest  not 
the  way  of  the  spirit,  (nor)  how  the  bones  (do  grow)  m 
the  womb  of  her  that  is  with  child."    The  formation 
and  growth  of  the  human  foetus  in  the  womb,  is  one  of 
those  secret  wonders  of  nature,  of  which  there  are  so 
many,  that  elude  our  penetration.  Anatomical  skill,  in- 
deed, may  ascertain  many  facts  respecting  the  succes- 
sive stages  of  its  progress  from  conception  to  maturity ; 
but  questions  might  still  be  asked,  to  which  the  most 
experienced  anatomist  could  give  no  reply  but  an  ac- 
knowledgment of  his  ignorance.     We  are  "  fearfully 
and  wonderfully  made."    The  structure  of  our  frame, 
so   "  curiously  wrought,"   so  singularly  complicated, 
so  exquisitely  adapted  in  all  its  parts  to  all  its  functions, 
is  one  of  the  most  marvellous  products  of  the  wisdom 
of  Divine  contrivance,  and  the  power  and  skill  of  Di- 
vine operation.     The  beautiful  provision  made  for  the 
sustenance  and  growth  of  the  embryo  man  by  the  sys- 
tem of  foetal  circulation, — the  entrance  of  the  principle 
of  animal  life,  indicated  by  its  first  faint  fluttering  move- 
ment,— and  the  gradual  increase  of  living  vigour,  till, 
by  the  pangs  of  parturition,  it  is  thrown  from  its  prison, 
utters  its  first  cry,  and  draws  for  itself  the  vital  air  of 
heaven  ;— all  is  full  of  mystery  and  wonder.— But  there 
is  another  secret.    When,  and  whence,  cometh  "  the 
spirit?" — the  immortal  soul?    At  what  time  does  it 
take  possession  of  its  tenement  ?  Does  it  enter  with  the 
principle  of  animal  life,  when  the  infant  first  stirs  in  the 
womb? — or  does  it  unite  itself  with  the  body  at  the 
moment  of  its  birth  into  the  world  ?— To  such  inqui- 
ries we  can  return  no  certain  answer.  We  neither  know 
*'  the  way  of  the  spirit,"  nor  "  how  the  bones  (do  grow) 
in  the  womb  of  her  that  is  with  child."  The  very  union 
itself  of  immaterial  and  invisible  spirit  with  gross  cor 


ECCLES.  XI.  1 — 8.  499 

poreal  substance,  has  been,  is,  and  ever  will  be,  incom- 
prehensible by  our  feeble  reason  ;  and  the  time  and  the 
manner  of  their  first  coalition  is  alike  a  mystery. 

*'  Even  so  thou  knowest  not  the  works  of  God,  who 
maketh  all." — We  may  apply  this  particularly  to  the 
subject  of  the  preceding  verses,  or  more  generally  to  the 
various  departments  of  the  Divine  procedure.  There 
are  wonders  in  providence,  as  well  as  in  creation.  God 
has  singular  ways  of  working  in  both.  You  may  say, 
— We  cannot  tell  how  we  are  to  obtain  any  return  for 
our  liberality  ; — we  cannot  imagine,  how  giving  away 
should  fail  to  make  us  poorer, — how,  by  scattering,  our 
substance  should  increase.  But  God's  ways  are  not 
your  ways.  He  effects  his  purposes  by  hidden  arrange- 
ments, that  are  promoting  their  ends  even  when  to  you 
they  may  seem  for  the  time  to  counteract  them,  and 
that  bring  about  events  altogether  out  of  the  range  of 
human  expectation.  In  your  ignorance  of  the  Divine 
administration,  your  best  course  is  to  discharge  your 
duty  with  cheerfulness,  and  without  fruitless  anxieties 
and  apprehensjioub,  confiding  in  his  wisdom,  faithful- 
ness, and  love,  "committing  your  way  unto  him,  and 
trusting  in  him,  that  he  will  bring  it  to  pass,"  using 
whatever  measure  of  his  bounty  he  bestows  upon  you, 
according  to  his  own  directions,  without  reserve  and 
without  fear  of  the  issue.  A  proper  feeling  of  reverence 
for  God,  who  "doeth  great  things  past  finding  out, 
yea,  and  marvellous  things  without  number,"  should 
lead  us  to  this  implicit  obedience  and  implicit  reliance. 
"  There  is  no  searching  of  his  understanding."  **  O 
the  depth  of  the  riches,  and  wisdom,  and  knowledge  of 
God  !  How  unsearchable  (are)  his  judgments,  and  his 
ways  past  finding  out !" 

Every  good,  and  especially  every  benevolent  action, 


500  LECTURE  XXI. 

dictated  by  the  principles  of  the  word  of  God,  is  sowing 
seed  for  a  future  harvest :  and  true  wisdom  consists  in 
doing  this  daily, — constantly, — losing  no  time,  no  op- 
portunity : — ^Verse  6.  *'  In  the  morning  sow  thy  seed, 
and  in  the  evening  withhold  not  thy  hand ;  for  thou 
knowest  not  whether  shall  prosper,  either  this  or  that, 
or  whether  they  both  (shall  be)  alike  good." 

Many  of  our  attempts  at  good  may  fail  of  the  de- 
sired end  ;  and  some  of  them  may  even  produce  results 
opposite  to  our  intentions.  But  such  occurrences  should 
not  discourage  us.  Let  them  dictate  prudence,  but 
never  inspire  despondency.  Let  them  direct  our  efforts, 
but  by  no  means  slacken  them.  If  the  sowing  of  the 
morning  fails,  that  of  the  evening  may  yield  a  crop ; 
and  we  cannot  previously  tell  but  that  both  may  be 
equally  productive.  We  cannot  ascertain  beforehand, 
which  of  our  endeavours  is  to  be  most  successful,  nor 
can  we  be  certain  as  to  any  one  of  them,  that  it  will  not 
prosper. — We  may  be  tempted  to  try  nothing,  by  the 
morbid  apprehension  of  failure.  The  better  course  is 
to  calculate  on  some  of  our  attempts  failing,  and  on  this 
account,  that  we  may  have  the  greater  probability  of 
succeeding  in  some,  to  make  them  the  more  nume- 
rous ;  whilst,  at  the  same  time,  we  bring  to  bear  upon 
every  one  of  them  the  entire  amount  of  prudence  and 
forethought  we  possess,  that,  as  far  as  lieth  in  us,  we 
may  insure  a  favourable  issue  to  them  all.  We  shall 
then  fulfil,  in  its  true  spirit,  the  direction  contained  in 
this  verse.—"  Let  us  not  be  weary  in  well-doing ;  for 
in  due  season  we  shall  reap,  if  we  faint  not.  As  we 
have  therefore,  opportunity,  let  us  do  good  unto  all, 
especially  unto  them  who  are  of  the  household  of 
faiih."* 

*  Gal.  vi.  9,  10. 


ECCLES.  XI.   1 — 8.  501 

It  ought  further  to  be  remembered,  that  even  if  all 
our  designs  and  schemes  of  usefulness  should,  by  un- 
foreseen circumstances,  be  frustrated  ;  yet,  having  been 
in  our  hearts,  and  having  been  attempted  from  right 
motives,  even  from  the  principles  of  benevolence  and 
piety,  they  are,  in  the  estimate  of  God,  the  samt  a^  if 
they  had  been  attended  with  the  most  perfect  success. 
Men  are  exceedingly  apt  to  form  their  judgment  of  ac- 
tions according  to  the  issue  of  them.  But  He  who 
*'  searcheth  the  heart"  "judgeth  righteous  judgment;" 
and  even  of  the  good  intention,  to  which  his  providence 
denies  accomplishment,  he  says  to  its  projector,  *'  Thou 
didst  well  that  it  was  in  thy  heart." 

It  is  natural,  that  men  should  desire  prosperity  : — 
Verse  7.  "  Truly  the  light  (is)  sweet,  and  a  pleasant 
(thing  it  is)  for  the  eyes  to  behold  the  sun." — Light  is 
a  beautiful  emblem  of  happiness  or  joy.  We  at  once, 
by  a  kind  of  instinctive  association,  connect  with  it  the 
idea  of  cheerfulness  and  pleasure,  and  that  of  melan- 
choly and  mourning  with  darkness.  This  is  so  natural, 
so  accordant  with  universal  feeling,  that  the  figure  is,  I 
suppose,  common  to  all  languages.  It  occurs  frequently 
in  the  Scriptures.  "  Light  is  sown  for  the  righteous, 
and  gladness  for  the  upright  in  heart."  *'  If  thou  draw- 
out  thy  soul  to  the  hungry,  and  satisfy  the  afflicted  soul : 
then  shall  thy  light  rise  in  obscurity,  and  thy  darkness 
^hall  be  as  the  noon-day."  "  The  light  of  the  wicked 
shall  be  put  out,  and  the  spark  of  his  fire  shall  not  shine. 
The  light  shall  be  dark  in  his  tabernacle,  and  his  candle 
shall  be  put  out  with  him."  "  The  light  of  God's  coun- 
tenance" is  the  cheering  influence  of  his  favour;  and 
to  express  the  uninterrupted  joy  of  the  heavenly  state? 
the  absence  of  those  alternations  of  gladness  and  gloom 
that  characterize  the  present  life,  it  is  beautifully  said, 


502  LECTURE  XXI. 

",There  shall  be  no  night  there."  It  is  "  the  inheritance 
of  the  saints  in  light."  The  heavenly  city,  seen  by  John 
in  the  visions  of  God,  '^  had  no  need  of  the  sun,  neither 
of  the  moon,  to  shine  in  it ;  for  the  glory  of  God  did 
lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  was  the  light  thereof." 

But  desirable  as  prosperity  is,  it  cannot  be  secured. 
This  world  is,  in  every  man's  experience,  although  in 
very  various  proportions,  a  scene  of  alternate  light  and 
shade,  clouds  and  sunshine  : — Verse  8.  *'  But  if  a  man 
live  many  years,  (and)  rejoice  in  them  all,  yet  let  him 
remember  the  days  of  darkness,  for  they  shall  be  many. 
All  that  cometh  (is)  vanity." 

Long  continued  prosperity  is  very  dangerous  to  its 
possessor.   It  is  apt  to  make  him  forget  himself;  to  se- 
duce his  affections  from  better  things,  and  to  lead  him 
to  say  within  himself,  "This  is  my  rest."  But  however 
long  and  uninterruptedly  prosperity  may  have  been  en- 
joyed, its  continuance,  even  for  a  day  longer,  can  never 
be  counted  upon.     "  Days  of  darkness"  may  be  near, 
when  a  man  is  least  apprehending  their  approach.  The 
day  that  has  gratified  his  utmost  wishes  may  be  the  day 
that  gives  beginning  to  disappointments  and  troubles. 
The  sun  of  his  prosperity  may  be  eclipsed  in  its  meri- 
dian altitude.    The  moment  that  has  cleared  his  sky  of 
its  only  remaining  cloud,  may  be  the  moment  that  gives 
indications  of  the  coming  storm. — And  as  the  days  of 
darkness  may  be  near  when  least  anticipated,  they  may 
also  be  "many,"  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  the 
previous  days  of  light.     Often  has  lasting  prosperity 
been  succeeded  by  protracted  affliction ;  many  days  of 
sunshine  and  gladness  by  many  of   "  darkness  and 
gloominess,  of  clouds  and  thick  darkness." — Let  no 
man,  therefore,  say,  **  I  shall  not  be  moved  j  for  I  shall 
never  be  in  adversity."    Job,  in  the  season  of  his  feli. 


ECCLES.  XI.   1 — 8.  503 

city  and  glory,  when  "  the  candle  of  the  Lord  shined 
upon  his  head,  and  by  his  light  he  walked  through 
darkness,"— when,  according  to  another  of  his  beauti- 
ful figures,  "  his  root  was  spread  out  by  the  waters,  and 
the  dew  lay  all  night  upon  his  branch,"— Job  then  said, 
*'  I  shall  die  in  my  nest,  I  shall  multiply  my  days  as 
the  sand."  But  while  he  was  saying  so,  unthought-of 
troubles  were  gathering  round  him.  The  predatory 
bands  of  the  Sabeans  and  Chaldeans  were  on  their 
march,  to  drive  off  his  herds,  and  murder  his  servants ; 
— the  "  fire  of  God"  was  falling  from  heaven,  and  con- 
suming his  flocks  with  their  shepherds ; — and  the 
"  great  wind  from  the  wilderness"  was  smiting  the 
four  corners  of  the  "  house  of  feasting,"  and  burying 
in  its  ruins  his  entire  family,  his  "  seven  sons  and  his 
three  daughters!"  While  he  was  saying  so,  the  intel- 
ligence came,  that  laid  him  among  the  ashes,  an  ago- 
nized and  desolate  mourner,  with  his  head  shaven,  and 
his  mantle  torn;— the  commencement  of  "wearisome 
days,"  and  "  months  of  vanity,"  during  which  "  his 
harp  was  turned  to  mourning,  and  his  organ  to  the 
voice  of  them  that  weep." — The  man  who  never  anti- 
cipates and  expects  trouble  must  be  but  ill  prepared  to 
stand  it  when  it  comes.  And  since  *'  all  that  cometh 
is  vanity ;"  since  our  joys  are  precarious  and  transient ; 
since  we  cannot  say  with  effect  to  the  sun  of  our  pros- 
perity, "  Stand  thou  still,"  when  a  higher  authority 
commands  it  to  decline  into  the  twilight  of  fear,  and 
the  night  of  darkness  and  sorrow  ;— O  how  unutterabl} 
foolish  is  the  man  who  trusts  to  this  vanity,  and  calcu- 
lates on  no  reverse ! 

As  a  part  of  the  improvement  of  these  verses,  my 
friends,  allow  me,  in  the  first  place,  to  extend  a  little 
this  thought,  of  the  succession  of  "days  of  darkness'" 


504  LECTURE  XXI. 

to  days  of  light  and  prosperity.  Although  such  dayb 
should  not  at  all  overtake  the  prosperous  worldling 
during  his  earthly  life  ;— though  his  entire  course  here 
below  should  be  marked  by  success  in  all  his  pursuits, 
and  the  fulfilment  of  all  his  wishes ;  yet,  ah  !  if  he  dies, 
as  he  has  lived,  "  a  man  of  the  world,  who  has  his  por- 
tion in  this  life,"  days  of  darkness, — many  days  of 
darkness,— an  eternity  of  darkness,  awaits  him.  When 
the  light  of  his  earthly  prosperity  is  extinguished,  it 
must  be  succeeded  by  "  the  blackness  of  darkness  for 
ever."  O  then,  how  much  more  blessed  is  the  poorest 
of  the  children  of  God,  who,  though  his  "  days  of  dark- 
ness" on  earth  be  "  many,"  possesses,  amidst  the 
deepest  of  their  gloom,  "a  joy  with  which  a  stranger 
cannot  intermeddle," — a  "  good  portion,  that  shall  not 
be  taken  away  from  him," — a  *'  treasure  in  the  heavens 
that  faileth  not ;"— who,  in  the  midst  of  darkness,  has 
light  from  the  Lord ;  and  who  has  the  prospect  of  that 
land  of  light,— of  knowledge,  and  purity,  and  bliss, — 
where  "  the  days  of  his  mourning  shall  be  ended," — 
where  the  "  Lord  shall  be  his  everlasting  light,  and  his 
God  his  glory  !"— Jesus  "  lifted  up  his  eyes  on  his  dis- 
ciples, and  said,  Blessed  (are  ye)  poor  ;  for  yours  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.  Blessed  (are  ye)  that  hunger  now ; 
for  ye  shall  be  filled.  Blessed  (are  ye)  that  weep  now ; 
for  ye  shall  laugh.— But  wo  unto  you  that  are  rich  !  for 
ve  have  received  your  consolation.  Wo  unto  you  that 
are  full !  for  ye  shall  hunger.  Wo  unto  you  that  laugh 
now!  for  ye  shall  mourn  and  weep."— The  "  days  of 
darkness"  in  this  world  may  come  ;  but  if  you  live  and 
die  without  God,  the  days  of  darkness  of  which  I  now 
speak  must  come.  As  to  this  there  is  no  uncertainty.  It 
is  sure  as  the  word  and  oath  of  the  God  of  truth.  All 
-.he  impenitent  enemies  of  God  and  his  i-ion,  all  the 


ECCLES.  XI.  1 — 8.  505 

careless  neglecters  of  the  great  salvation,  shall  be  ba- 
nished from  the  blessed  light  of  heaven  to  the  darkness 
of  hell,  where  no  ray  of  gladness  or  of  hope  enlivens 
the  perpetual  gloom. 

But,  blessed  be  God,  these  days  of  everlasting  dark- 
ness may  be  avoided.  *'  I  am  the  Light  of  the  world," 
says  the  Redeemer  of  men  ;  "he  that  followcth  me 
shall  not  walk  in  darkness,  but  shall  have  the  light  of 
life."  And  *' truly  this  W^ht  is  sweet;"  sweet  at  all 
times ;  peculiarly  sweet,  in  the  season  of  adversity ; 
shining  then  in  the  dwellings  of  the  righteous,  and 
making  their  hearts  glad,  when  the  lights  of  their  earthly 
joy  are  dark  in  their  tabernacle.  And  it  is  an  everlast- 
ing light,—"  the  light  of  life,"— of  life  eternal.  If  you 
would  possess  the  light  of  true  joy,  you  must  come  to 
the  Fountain  of  light,— even  to  Him  of  whom  it  is  said, 
'^  In  him  was  life,  and  the  life  was  the  light  of  men." 

In  the  second  place.  We  should  learn  to  consider 
ourselves  as  debtors  to  one  another,  and  to  our  fellow- 
men  in  general,  in  every  thing  by  which  God  puts  it  in 
our  power  to  profit  them. — Whatever  be  the  gift  we 
have  received,  it  becomes  our  duty  to  "  minister  the 
same  one  to  another,  as  good  stewards  of  the  manifold 
grace  of  God."  The  exhortation  in  the  beginning  of 
the  chapter  may  be  applied,  in  all  its  emphasis,  to  spi- 
ritual as  well  as  to  temporal  things.  This  indeed  is  the 
peculiar  province  of  Christian  charity.  In  its  efforts  and 
sacrifices  for  the  corporeal  and  other  temporal  comforts 
of  men,  it  finds  many  associates  amongst  those  who  are 
alive  to  the  claims  of  humanity  and  -compassion,  al- 
though they  are  destitute  of  religious  principle  : — but 
having  learned  to  "  seek  first,"  for  himself,  "  the  king- 
dom of  God  and  his  righteousness,"— having  been 
taught  the  preciousness  of  the  soul,  and  the  value  of 
3  S 


506  LECTURE  XXI. 

>  eternal  blessings,  the  Christian  takes  into  the  range  of 
his  benevolent  contemplations  and  schemes  of  useful- 
ness, the  everlasting  existence  of  the  objects  of  his 
pitying  regard.  To  leave  this  out  of  the  account,  is  the 
prevalent  defect  of  what  is  extolled  as  benevolence 
amongst  men  ;  but  it  is  the  extreme  of  inconsistency 
and  folly.  It  is  infinitely  more  foolish,  than  if  a  man 
were  to  expend  all  his  counsel  and  his  pains  to  obtain 
for  another  the  ease  and  comfort  of  an  hour,  whilst  he 
wilfully  disregarded  what  might  secure  the  happiness 
of  a  lifetime ; — or,  than  if  a  medical  practitioner  were 
to  bend  all  his  attention,  and  devote  all  his  skill,  to 
some  slight  topical  ailment,  whilst  he  allowed  a  deadly 
disease  to  prey  upon  the  constitution,  with  unheeded, 
unmitigated,  and  fatal  fury.  The  eternal  salvation  of 
sinners  has  been  the  great  object  of  Divine  benevo- 
lence ;  for  the  accomplishment  of  which  all  the  wonders 
have  been  wrought  of  the  mediation  of  the  Son  of  God. 
It  was  for  this  that  *'  he  who  was  in  the  form  of  God, 
and  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be  equal  with  God,  made 
himself  of  no  reputation,  and  took  upon  him  the  form 
of  a  servant,  and  was  made  in  the  likeness  of  men  ;  and, 
being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  humbled  himself,  and 
became  obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the 
cross." — He  who  neglects  the  spiritual  and  eternal  in- 
terests of  men,  is  not  of  one  mind  with  God.  His  bene- 
volence is  wretchedly  defective  and  spurious.  He  wants 
the  spirit  of  that  world  of  love,  where  "  there  is  joy 
over  one  sinner  that  repenteth." 

Let  Christian  ministers,  Christian  parents,  teachers 
of  sabbath- schools,  and  the  disciples  of  Christ  in  gene- 
ral, in  their  various  departments  of  usefulness,  be  en- 
couraged to  cast  the  seed  of  spiritual  instruction  upon 
the  waters.  We  shall  find  it  after  many  days.  "  Be  ia- 


ECCLES.  xr.  1 — 8.  507 

slant,  in  season,  out  of  season;"  not  consulting,  but 
cheerfully  sacrificing,  j^our  own  ease  and  convenience. 
"  In  the  morning  sow  thy  seed,  and  in  the  evening 
withhold  not  thy  hand ;  for  thou  knowest  not  whether 
shall  prosper,  either  this  or  that ;  or  whether  they  both 
shall  be  alike  good."  In  some  cases,  it  may  be  long 
before  any  of  the  seed  begins  to  spring  ;  and  in  others, 
whole  fields  may  speedily  be  "  white  unto  harvest." 
There  is  not  in  the  spiritual  the  same  regularity  of  re- 
turn as  in  the  natural  world.  Sometimes,  the  seed  is  no 
sooner  sown  than  the  blade  appears,  and  is  rapidly  suc- 
ceeded by  "the  ear  and  the  full  corn  in  the  ear."  At 
other  times,  it  may  lie  in  the  soil  till  you  think  it  must 
be  rotten,  and  sigh  over  it  as  lost ;  and  when  hope  is 
gone,  and  you  have  given  up  all  thoughts  of  its  ever 
appearing,  that  may  be  the  very  moment  when  the  prin- 
ciple of  life  from  God  quickens  the  germ,  and  surprises 
and  delights  you  with  the  unexpected  beauties  of  spiri- 
tual vegetation. 

In  the  spiritual,  as  in  the  natural  world,  **  it  is  God 
that  giveth  the  increase."  It  was  so,  when  Paul  planted, 
and  Apollos  watered  ;  and  it  is  so  still.  "  Neither  is  he 
that  planteth  any  thing,  nor  he  that  watereth ;  but  God 
that  giveth  the  increase."  But  an  increase  from  the 
seed  of  the  word  is  graciously  promised : — "  As  the 
rain  cometh  down  and  the  snow  from  heaven,  and  re- 
turneth  not  thither,  but  watereth  the  earth,  and  maketh 
it  bring  forth  and  bud,  that  it  may  give  seed  to  the 
sower,  and  bread  to  the  eater ;  so  shall  my  word  be  that 
goeth  forth  out  of  my  mouth  :  it  shall  not  return  unto 
me  void,  but  it  shall  accomplish  that  which  1  please,  and 
prosper  (in  the  thing)  whereto  I  sent  it."*— When  we 
sow  our  seed,  therefore,  let  our  prayers  ascend  for  the 
♦lsa.lv.  10,  .IL 


508  LECTURE  XXI. 

quickening  influences  of  heaven;  and  when  any  increase 
appears,  let  our  acl^nowledgments  be  made  for  those 
influences  to  the  God  of  all  grace.  The  prayer  of  faith 
shall  not  be  unanswered ;  the  exertions  of  zeal  shall  not 
be  unblessed  ;  the  seed-time  of  instruction  shall  be  fol- 
lowed by  a  harvest  of  the  "  fruits  of  righteousness ;" 
the  "  work  and  labour  of  love"  shall  not  be  forgotten 
of  Him  for  whose  sake  and  to  the  glory  of  whose  name 
it  is  done. 

And,  my  Christian  brethren,  if  a  portion  of  your 
worldly  substance  be  required  for  the  purpose  of  im- 
parting the  bread  of  life  to  famishing  millions,  will  you 
withhold  it  ?  Will  you  keep  it  back  from  Him  out  of 
whose  treasures  you  have  received  it ;  who  still  says, 
^^  The  silver  is  mine,  and  the  gold  is  mine;"  who  ho- 
nours you  by  putting  it  in  your  power  to  promote  his 
cause  ;  who  encourages  you  to  liberality  by  the  promise 
of  his  blessing ;  and  who  is  able  to  "  canker  your  gold 
and  silver,"  and  cause  *'  the  rust  of  them  to  witness 
asrainst  you  ?"  "  Honour  the  Lord  with  vour  sub- 
stance."  "  There  is  that  scattereth,  and  yet  increaseth." 
Be  not  deaf  to  the  appeals  of  Heaven.  Let  the  pleading 
voice  of  the  whole  Heathen  world  be  heard.  Let  the 
claims  of  ^'  the  seed  of  Abraham,  God's  friend,"  awaken 
the  grateful  sensibilities  of  your  hearts,  and  open  your 
hands  to  liberality.  Seize  the  present  opportunity.  Let 
it  not  pass  unimproved.  Seek  not  after  apologies  for 
refusal.  Cover  not  a  grudging  disposition  by  plausible 
objections.  Let  not  Conscience  be  bribed  and  cajoled 
by  Avarice.  Put  not  to  the  credit  of  prudence  and  prin- 
ciple what  belongs  to  the  account  of  hardhearted  selfish- 
ness, and  the  "  love  of  this  present  world."  Allow  no 
imaginary  obstacles,  or  trifling  difficulties,  to  bar  the 
present  exercise  of  your  Christian  generosity.    •*  Cast 


ECCLES.  XI.  1 — 8.  509 

your  bread-corn  on  the  face  of  the  waters.*'  "  Give  a 
portion  to  seven  and  also  to  eight." — How  power! ul  is 
the  Divine  expostulation  with  Israel  by  the  prophet 
Haggai !  Hear  it,  with  an  awakened  conscience  and  a 
willing  mind.  "  (Is  it)  time  for  you,  O  ye,  to  dwell  in 
your  ceiled  houses,  and  this  house  (lie)  waste  ?  Now 
therefore  thus  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  Consider  your 
ways.  Ye  have  sown  much,  and  bring  in  little ;  ye  eat, 
but  ye  have  not  enough  ;  ye  drink,  but  ye  are  not  filled 
with  drink ;  ye  clothe  you,  but  there  is  none  warm  ;  and 
he  that  earneth  wages,  earneth  wages  (to  put  it)  into  a 
bag  with  holes.  Thus  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  Consider 
your  ways.  Go  up  to  the  mountain,  and  bring  wood, 
and  build  the  hou^e  ;  and  I  will  take  pleasure  in  it,  and 
1  will  be  glorifies  saith  the  Lord.  Ye  looked  for  much, 
and,  lo,  (it  came)  to  little  ;  and  when  ye  brought  (it) 
home,  I  did  blow  upon  it.  Why  ?  saith  the  Lord  of 
hosts.  Because  of  mine  house  that  (is)  waste,  and  ye 
run  every  man  unto  his  own  house.  Therefore  the  hea- 
ven over  you  is  stayed  from  dew,  and  the  earth  is 
stayed  (from)  her  fruit.  And  I  called  for  a  drought 
upon  the  land,  and  upon  the  mountains,  and  upon  the 
corn,  and  upon  the  new  wine,  and  upon  the  oil,  and 
upon  (that)  which  the  ground  bringeth  forth,  and  upon 
men,  and  upon  cattle,  and  upon  all  the  labour  of  the 
hands."*  Mark  also  the  promise  of  blessing  attending 
their  compliance  with  the  expostulation,  and  derive 
from  it  the  encouragement  it  is  fitted  to  give : — "  And 
now,  I  pray  you,  consider  from  this  day  and  upward, 
from  before  a  stone  was  laid  upon  a  stone  in  the  temple 
of  the  Lord  ;  since  those  (days)  were,  when  (one)  came 
to  a  heap  of  twenty  (measures,)  there  were  (but)  ten : 
when  (one)  came  to  the  press-fat,  for  to  draw  out  fifty 

♦  Hag.  i.  4— 11. 


510  LECTURE  XXr.     ECCLES.  XI.  1 8. 

(vessels)  out  of  the  press,  there  were  (but)  twenty.  I 
smote  you  with  blasting,  and  with  mildew,  and  with 
hail,  in  all  the  labours  of  your  hands ;  yet  ye  (turned) 
not  to  me,  saith  the  Lord.  Consider  now  from  this  day 
and  upward,  from  the  four  and  twentieth  day  of  the 
ninth  (month,  even)  from  the  day  that  the  foundation 
of  the  Lord's  temple  was  laid,  consider  (it.)  Is  the  seed 
yet  in  the  barn  ?  yea,  as  yet  the  vine,  and  the  fig-tree, 
and  the  pomegranate,  and  the  olive-tree,  hath  not 
brought    forth:    from    this    day    will    i    bless 

YOU."* 

*  Hag.  ii.  15—19. 


k 


LECTURE  XXII. 


EccLES.  xi.  9,  10.     xii.  1 — 7. 

9  "  Rejoice,  O  young  man,  in  thy  youth,  and  let  thy  heart  cheer  thee 
in  the  days  of  thy  youth,  and  walk  in  the  ivays  of  thine  heart,  and 
in  the  sight  of  thine  eyes  :  but  know  thou,  that  for  all  these  (things  J 
10  God  ivilt  bring  thee  into  Judgment.  Therefore  remove  sorrow  from 
thy  heart,  and  fiut  away  evil  from  thy  flesh:  for  childhood  and 
youth  (are)  vanity." 

1  "  Remember  now  thy  Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth,  while  the 
evil  days  come  not,  nor  the  years  draw  nigh,  when  thou  shalt  say, 

2  /  have  no  pleasure  in  them  ;  While  the  sun ,  or  the  light,  or  the  moon, 
or  the  stars,  be  not  darkened,  nor  the  clouds  return  after  the  rain  : 

3  In  the  day  when  the  keefiers  of  the  house  shall  tremble,  and  the 
strong  men  shall  bow  themselves,  and  the  grinders  cease  because 
they  are  few,  and  those  that  look  out  of  the  windows  be  darkened; 

4  And  the  doors  shall  be  shut  in  the  streets,  wheii  the  sound  of  the 
grinding  is  low  ;  and  he  shall  rise  up  at  the  voice  of  the  bird  ;  and 

5  all  the  daughters  of  music  shall  be  brought  low  :  Also  (when  J  they 
shall  be  afraid  of  (that  which  is  J  high,  and  fears  (shall  be  J  in  the 
way,  and  the  almond-tree  shall  flourish,  and  the  grasshopper  shall 
be  a  burden,  and  desire  shallfail ;  because  man  goeth  to  his  long  home, 

6  and  the  mourners  go  about  the  streets :  or  ever  the  silver  cord  be 
loosed,  or  the  golden  bowl  be  broken,  or  the  pitcher  be  broken  at  the 

7  fountain,  or  the  wheel  broken  at  the  cistern :  Then  shall  the  dust 
return  to  the  earth  as  it  was;  and  the  spirit  shall  return  unto  God 
who  gave  it." 

-00000 

Of  all  the  seasons  of  life,  youth  is  the  one  in  which 
we  are  least  disposed  to  anticipate  "days  of  darkness." 
The  spirits  are  then  light  and  buoyant,  and  the  heart 
dances  to  the  notes  of  pleasure.  The  blood  is  warm  ; 
the  passions  are  ardent ;  the  inward  pleadings  for  their 
indulgence  are  powerful ;  restraint  is  felt  to  be  irksome, 
and  is  esteemed  unreasonable ;  the  counsels  of  age  are 
apt  to  be  disregarded,  as  coming  from  those  who  have 
themselves  enjoyed  their  youth,  and  who,  being  now 


312  LECTURE  xxir. 

incapable  of  its  pleasures,  would  ungenerously  deny 
them  to  others.  These  counsels  may  be  the  result  even 
of  dear-bought  experience,  and  the  dictate  of  the  sin- 
cerest  aflfection.  But  youth  is  incredulous  of  evil ;  never 
disposed  to  take  it  upon  trust  from  others  that  ''  all  is 
vanity,"  but  determined  to  make  the  trial  for  itself. 
Feeling  that  there  are  pleasures  in  sin,  it  flatters  itself 
with  the  persuasion,  that  the  young  at  least  may  be 
allowed  a  little  licence.  Impelled  by  inward  propensi- 
ties, and  solicited  by  outward  temptations,  it  pursues 
its  course  of  indulgence.  What  the  Bible  condemns 
as  dangerous  and  ruinous  sins,  it  learns  to  call  by  the 
palliative  names  of  juvenile  levities,  irregularities,  in- 
discretions ;  and  laughs  away  reflection,  as  the  business 
of  maturer  age. 

Well  aware  of  the  character  and  natural  propensities 
of  youth,  Solomon,  turning  himself  to  the  young,  as 
he  was  naturally  led  to  do  by  the  tenor  of  the  prece- 
ding verse,  frames  his  address  accordingly: — "  Rejoice, 
O  young  man,  in  thy  youth,  and  let  thy  heart  cheer 
thee  in  the  days  of  thy  youth,  and  walk  in  the  ways  of 
thy  heart,  and  in  the  sight  of  thine  eyes  :  but  know  thou, 
that  for  all  these  (things)  God  will  bring  thee  into  judg- 
ment." 

This,  as  I  hinted  in  a  former  lecture,  is  most  natu- 
rally interpreted  as  the  language  of  serious  and  awaken- 
ing irony.  Some  of  the  terms  are  such  as  will  not  bear 
to  be  explained  of  that  innocent  cheerfulness,  and  chas- 
tened indulgence,  which  alone  could  be  directly  recom- 
mended either  to  childhood,  or  youth,  or  manhood. — 
"  Rejoice,  O  young  man,  in  thy  youth,  and  let  thy 
heart  cheer  thee  in  the  days  of  thy  youth."  Take  thy 
pleasure.  Pursue  whatever  course  inclination  suggests 
to  thee.     Trouble  not  thyself  with  reflections  or  with 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.  XII.  1 — 7.  513 

anticipations  ;  but  yield  to  present  impulses,  and  sp&nd 
a  merry  life.  Give  thyself  no  concern  about  what  may- 
please  God.  Please  thyself.  "  Withhold  not  thy  heart 
from  any  joy."  Follow  the  tide  of  thy  passions.  And  if 

" thy  pulse's  madd'ning'  play 

Wild  send  thee  pleasure's  devious  way," 

do  not  check  it ;  mind  not  moderating  and  reducing 
it ;  let  it  bound  in  thy  veins ;  and  give  thy  youthful 
desires  their  full  measure  of  gratification. 

That  Solomon  means  more  than  mere  merriment^ 
mere  cheerful,  unsolicitous,  lighthearted  jollity, — that 
he  means  the  pleasures  of  sin, — is  evident  from  the 
phrases  which  follow : — "  and  walk  in  the  ways  of  thy 
heart,  and  in  the  sight  of  thine  eyes."  The  ways  of  a 
viQTi's  heart,  in  Scripture  language,  do  not  mean  the 
ways  of  the  renewed  heart ;  but  the  ways  to  which  he 
is  led  by  the  dispositions  and  tendencies  of  the  heart  in 
its  natural  state,  unregenerated  by  the  grace  of  God  :— 
*'  For  the  iniquity  of  his  covetousness,"  says  God  con- 
cerning rebellious  Israel,  "  1  was  wroth  and  smote  him: 
I  hid  me  and  was  wroth ;  and  he  went  on  frowardly  in 
the  way  of  his  heart."  To  "  walk  in  the  siglu  of  the 
eyes,"  is  to  pursue  whatever  the  eyes  look  upon  as 
desirable.  We  naturally  fix  our  eyes  on  that  which  we 
value  and  wish  for,  and  avert  them  from  that  which  we 
dislike.  The  eyes  thus  become  the  index  of  the  aflec- 
tions.  Ezekiel's  wife  is  denominated  "  the  desire  of  his 
eyes."  Seeking  with  eagerness  the  precarious  treasures 
of  the  world,  is  "  setting  the  eyes  upon  that  which  is 
not."  The  "  lust  of  the  eye,"  is  associated  with  the 
«*  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the  pride  of  life."  And  in  the 
second  chapter  of  this  book,  Solomon  expresses  the 
unrestrained  gratification  which  he  gave  to  all  his  pro- 
pensities in  these  words,  "  whatsoever  mine  eyes  de- 
3T 


314  LECTURE  XXII. 

sired  I  kept  not  from  them  ;  I  withheld  not  mine  heart 
from  any  joy."  It  is  one  of  the  prayers  of  his  pious  fa- 
ther, "  Turn  away  mine  eyes  from  Ijgholding  vanity.'^ 
The  ways  of  the  heart,  and  the  sight  of  the  eyes,  are 
sometimes  united  to  signify  the  practical  indulgence 
of  evil  tendencies.  In  delivering  the  Divine  injunction 
to  the  Israelites  respecting  the  fringes  of  their  garments, 
Moses  says  to  them :  "  And  it  shall  be  unto  you  for  a 
fringe,  that  ye  may  look  upon  it,  and  remember  all  the 
commandments  of  the  Lord,  and  do  them  ;  and  that  ye 
seek  not  after  your  own  hearty  and  your  own  eyes^  after 
which  ye  use  to  go  a  whoring."*— Enjoy  thyself,  then, 
says  Solomon.  Let  thy  heart  follow  thine  eye,  and  thine 
eye  thy  heart.  Rove  at  pleasure  amidst  all  the  scenes  of 
youthful  indulgence.  While  "  the  days  of  thy  youth" 
continue,  give  the  reins  to  thy  lusts,  and  satiate  thyself 
with  whatever  thy  heart  fancies. 

This  is  counsel,  which  the  young  would  like  very 
well  to  understand  as  given  them  in  good  earnest.  But 
so  given,  it  would  be  counsel  very  inconsistent  with 
the  whole  tenor  and  design  of  this  book.  Solomon 
takes  a  higher  aim.  His  object  is,  to  entice  the  young 
to  purer,  and  nobler,  and  more  lasting  joys  ;  and  he 
immediately  checks  the  indulgences  of  time,  by  point- 
ing to  eternity.  He  draws  in  the  rein,  which  he  seemed 
to  throw  loose.  He  damps  the  fire  which  he  appeared 
to  kindle.  He  exhibits  a  youth,  giving  himself  up  to 
all  the  gaieties,  and  all  the  licentious  pleasures  of  the 
world,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  scene  of  mirth  and  re- 
velry, he  suddenly  startles  his  ear,  and  thrills  his  heart 
with  the  summons  to  the  tribunal  of  God.  "  Rejoice, 
O  young  man,  in  thy  youth,  and  let  thy  heart  cheer 
thee  in  the  days  of  thy  youth,  and  walk  in  the  ways  of 

*  Numb.  XV.  39. 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.  XII.  1 — 7.  51;') 

thy  heart,  and  in  the  sight  of  thine  eyes:  but  know 
THOU  that  for  all  these  things  God  will  bring  thee  into 
judgment." 

This  is  very  solemn. —Go  on,  young  man.  Pursue 
thy  career  of  pleasure.  Give  thy  heart  all  its  desires. 
But — count  the  cost.  Anticipate  what  is  before  thee. 
Remember,  thou  hast  an  account  to  give.  Think  of  the 
awful  realities  of  a  coming  judgment :— and  then, — with 
these  before  thine  eye, — follow  thy  present  course,  if 
thou  canst. — Thou  mayest  have  many  companions  in 
thy  career  of  thoughtlessness  and  sensuality.  But  O 
forget  not,  "God  will  bring  thee  into  judgment." 
Think  of  thyself.  Thine  own  personal  concern  in  the 
transactions  of  that  day  will  be  as  sure,  as  if  thou  wert 
to  be  the  sole  culprit,— the  only  prisoner  at  the  bar,— as 
if  all  creatures  were  swept  from  existence  but  thyself. 
— "  Know  thou"  this.  Be  assured  of  it.  "  God  has  ap- 
pointed  a  day  in  which  he  will  judge  the  world  in  righ- 
teousness." Let  conscience  speak  freely,  and  it  will 
ratify  the  assurances  of  his  word.  Laugh  not  at  the 
warning.  I  know  that  young  men  are  disposed  to  treat 
every  thought  of  such  a  subject  as  a  gloomy  intruder 
on  their  pleasures ; — I  know  that  the  problem  of  hap- 
piness is,  how  such  thoughts  may  be  most  effectually 
and  constantly  excluded  from  the  mind  ;— and  I  know 
that  the  man  who  ventures  tQ  suggest  them,  exposes 
himself  to  be  proscribed  as  rude,  and  stigmatized  as 
fanatical.  But  O  beware.  Listen  to  friendly  admoni- 
tion. What  you  are  tempted  to  laugh  at  now,  you  will 
find  a  dread  reality  in  the  end. 

This  is  not  the  language  of  sarcastic  contempt,  and 
heartless  indifference,  feeling  no  concern  whether  it  is 
complied  with  or  not.  It  is  not  the  language  of  a  sated 
sensualist,  grudging  you  your  youthful  pleasures,  be- 


316  LECTURE  XXII. 

cause  he  can  now  no  longer  partake  of  them  liimself. 
It  is  not  the  language  of  a  haughty  disdainful  Pharisee, 
who  says  in  his  heart,  "  God,  I  thank  thee  that  I  am 
not  as  other  men  are,  extortioners,  unjust,  adulterers, 
or  even  as  this  youthful  libertine."  It  is  not  the  lan- 
guage of  a  sour,  morose  religionist,  who  would  deprive 
you  of  all  enjoyment,  and  condemn  you  to  perpetual 
austerity  and  gloom. — No,  my  young  friends.  It  is  the 
voice  of  sincere  affection.  It  is  language  dictated  by 
the  experience  of  one,  who  tried  the  course  you  are 
running,  or  resolving  to  run.  He  knows  it  all.  His 
heart  dissolves  in  tenderness  over  the  youth,  whom  he 
sees  '*  regarding  lying  vanities,  and  forsaking  his  own 
mercy."  The  tear  trembles  in  his  eye  while  he  ad- 
dresses you.  He  beholds  you  spreading  all  your  sails, 
and  about  to  launch  forth,  insensible  of  your  danger, 
on  a  sea  that  is  full  of  perils ;  a  sea,  by  whose  entice- 
ments to  adventure  he  had  himself  been  tempted  out, 
of  which  the  hidden  dangers  are  most  imminent  where 
its  beauties  are  most  alluring,  whose  fairest  spots  are 
surrounded  with  the  most  numerous  wrecks,  where  his 
vessel  had  a  thousand  times  been  in  jeopardy,  and  from 
which  he  had.  as  by  a  miracle  of  mercy,  got  back  into 
port,  in  thankful  amazement  at  his  own  safety.  He 
would  persuade  you  against  running  the  same  fearful 
risk, — against  trying  a  course  from  which  so  few  have 
returned.  ^ 

To  show  that  his  end  was  far  from,  being  to  make 
them  miserable  before  the  time, — to  deprive  them  of 
their  enjoyments  and  substitute  nothing  in  their  room, 
—to  agitate  their  bosoms  with  unavailing  alarms, — he 
adds  in  verse  10.  *'  Therefore,  remove  sorrow  from 
thy  heart,  and  put  away  evil  from  thy  flesh  :  for  child- 
boo^  and  youth  (are)  vanity.'^ 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.  XII.  1 — 7.  517 

This  language  is  not  of  the  same  description  with 
that  in  the  preceding  verse,  "  Rejoice  in  thy  youth,  and 
let  thy  heart  cheer  thee  in  the  days  of  thy  youth."  There 
is  nothing  in  it  of  irony.  The  sorrow  and  the  evil  to  be 
put  away,  are  those  to  which  the  course  described  in 
the  preceding  verse  naturally  conducts  the  youth  who 
pursues  it.  They  are,  he  may  be  assured,  its  unfailing 
attendants  and  consequences.  The  admonition,  there- 
fore, is  one  of  benevolent  compassion,  to  avoid  suffer- 
ing both  in  body  and  in  soul,  both  in  time  and  in  eter- 
nity. The  course  from  which  Solomon  dissuades  was 
fitted,  even  in  this  world,  to  occasion  affliction  and 
mourning  to  the  heart,  and  disease  to  the  bodily  frame. 
It  is  in  warning  against  a  life  of  dissolute  pleasure,  that 
Solomon  elsewhere  urges  these  motives  on  the  attention 
of  youth  : — "  lest  thou  give  thine  honour  unto  others, 
and  thy  years  unto  the  cruel ;  lest  strangers  be  filled 
with  thy  wealth,  and  thy  labours  (be)  in  the  house  of  a 
stranger  ;  and  thou  mourn  at  the  last,  when  thy  flesh 
and  thy  body  are  consumed,  and  say.  How  have  I  hated 
instruction,  and  my  heart  despised  reproof;  and  have 
not  obeyed  the  voice  of  my  teachers,  nor  inclined  mine 
ear  to  them  that  instructed  me  !"*  and  such  a  course 
not  only  leads  to  bodily  suffering  and  anguish  of  spirit 
in  this  world,  but  will  infallibly  "  destroy  both  soul  and 
body  in  hell." 

He  then  adduces  a  motive  to  compliance  with  his 
admonition^  and  afterwards  prescribes  the  means  of  its 
fulfilment. — The  motive  is,  the  constant  precariousness 
of  life  at  every  period  of  it,  even  in  the  season  of  its 
greatest  vigour,  and  under  its  fairest  and  most  flatter- 
ing appearances  :  *'  childhood  and  youth  are  vanity." 
The  young  are  naturally  disposed  to  promise  them- 

*  Prov.v.  9— 13. 


518  LECTURE  XXII. 

selves  long  life,— to  count  upon  many  days.  Age,  they 
knovv^  must  be  near  the  grave  ;  but  they  have  abun- 
dance of  time  before  them, — plenty  of  leisure  to  think 
about  the  life  to  come,  before  the  present  life  shall  come 
to  a  close.  But,  alas !  vanity  is  inscribed  on  all  the  stages 
of  our  mortal  course  ;  and  dependence  on  its  prolonga- 
tion is,  at  every  period  of  it,  foolish  and  illusory.  Child- 
hood and  youth  are  subject  to  vicissitude  and  death,  as 
well  as  manhood  and  age.  The  young  man  who  is  bent 
on  worldly  pleasure  is  therefore  seriously  reminded  that' 
he  *^  knew  not  what  a  day  might  bring  forth :"  that  in 
reckoning  on  continued  life,  he  was  building  in  the  air ; 
that  death  might  arrest  him  in  his  career,  when  he  least 
expected  interruption ;  and  that  in  the  state  in  which 
death  found  him  he  must  give  in  his  account,  when 
"  God  should  bring  him  into  judgment." 

The  means  of  fulfilling  the  counsel,  to  *'  remove  sor- 
row from  the  heart,  and  put  away  evil  from  the  flesh," 
is  then  prescribed  :— 

Chap.  xii.  verse  1.  "  Remember  now  thy  Creator 
in  the  days  of  thy  youth,  while  the  evil  days  come  not, 
nor  the  years  draw  nigh,  when  thou  shalt  say,  1  have 
no  pleasure  in  them"." — It  is  the  tendency  of  our  fallen 
nature  to  forget  God  ;  and  this  tendency  is  peculiarly 
strong  in  youth,  amidst  the  gaieties  and  allurements  of 
a  fascinating  and  seductive  world.  Forgetfulness  of  God 
is  sometimes  put  for  the  whole  of  irreligion  ;  and  on  the 
same  principle,  the  remembrance  of  God  may  compre- 
hend  all  the  principles  and  affections  of  practical  godli- 
ness. So  the  phrase  is  used  here.  It  is  an  admonition 
to  early  piety. 

*'  Remember  thy  Creator."— Remember  him,  as  the 
great  Author  of  your  being ;  and  spend  not  the  exis- 
tence which  he  has  given  and  which  he  every  moment 


ECCLES.  xf.  9,  10.  xn.  1 — 7.  519 

sustains,  in  forgetfulness  of  him  and  rebellion  against 
him.  Remember  your  unceasing  dependence  upon  him 
for  "  life,  and  breath,  and  all  things,"  and  cherish  the 
humility  that  becomes  dependent  creatures.  Remem- 
ber him,  as  your  all-bountiful  Benefactor,  both  in  pro- 
vidence and  in  redemption,  the  Father  of  mercies,  the 
God  of  salvation.  Remember  him  in  all  the  characters 
in  which  he  has  been  pleased  to  make  himself  known 
to  his  creatures,  especially  that  in  which  it  is  the  prin- 
cipal design  of  the  Bible  to  reveal  him,  as  "  by  Jesus 
Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself,"  just  in 
justifying  the  ungodly,  displaying  in  the  redemption  of 
sinners  by  the  work  of  his  Son,  his  infinite  wisdom,  his 
spotless  purity,  his  inviolable  righteousness,  and  his 
unbounded  mercy,  in  that  inseparable  harmony,  in 
which,  by  the  necessity  of  his  nature,  they  exist  in  his 
perfect  character.  This  view  of  God  has  been  given 
to  men  from  the  beginning  with  various  degrees  of 
progressive  light ,  salvation  having,  since  the  entrance 
of  sin,  from  the  first  promise  downwards,  been  the  lead- 
ing subject  and  end  of  Divine  revelation.  Remember 
him,  with  the  dispositions,  the  worship,  the  obedience, 
the  service,  that  are  due  to  him.  It  is  affectionate, 
reverential,  practical  remembrance  of  him  that  is  here 
recommended.  Think  how  awful  it  is,  that  God  should 
be  so  generally  forgotten  by  his  intelligent  offspring ; 
that  He  should  have  so  few  of  their  thoughts,  so  little 
of  their  regards  !  Dare  ye  to  be  singular,  by  devoting 
yourselves  to  God  in  a  world  where  he  is  so  grievously 
dishonoured  ;  where  there  are  so  few  hearts  that  give 
him  a  welcome  residence.  Choose  ye  his  love  as  your 
portion,  his  service  as  your  employment,  his  glory  as 
your  end. 

And  "  Remember  noxv  thy  Creator,  in  the  days  of 


520  LECTURE  XXII. 

tkt/  youth.^'' — In  the  first  place  ^  because  ^^  childhood 
and  youth  are  vanity  ;" — because  life  is  from  the  first 
uncertain;  because  *'  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  begin- 
ning of  wisdom ;"  and  if  you  delay,  your  life  may  close, 
before  you  have  begun  to  be  wise.  The  youngest 
amongst  you,  and  the  healthiest  and  most  vigorous,  is 
not  sure  of  a  day.  If  you  do  not  wish,  therefore,  to  die 
in  forgetfulness  of  God,  your  safest  Way  is  to  remem- 
ber him  now. — Secondly,  because  he  is  supremely  en- 
titled to  the  choicest  and  best,  nay  to  the  whole,  of  your 
days.  He  has  a  paramount  claim  upon  all  your  time. 
Every  day  of  your  life  is  mispent,  that  is  spent  without 
God.  Think  not  only  of  the  folly,  but  of  the  impiety, 
of  delay.  You  do  not  intend,  perhaps,  to  spend  all  your 
days  without  religion.  You  will  begin  to  think  seriously 
by  and  by.  But  is  not  this  to  postpone  the  will  of  God 
to  your  own  ?  to  resolve  that  you  will  take  your  own 
pleasure  now,  and,  when  you  have  sated  yourselves, 
will  then  give  some  thought  to  pleasing  God  ?  Is  it  not 
to  say,  you  will  devote  to  yourselves  and  to  your  lusts 
the  prime  and  vigour  of  your  days,  and  then  give  to 
that  God  who  made  you  for  his  glory,  and  to  whonx 
you  owe  your  all,  the  dregs  and  refuse  of  your  time  ? 
What  think  you  of  this  preference  of  self  to  God  ?  Is 
it  not  deeply  impious  ?  O  be  not,  then,  guilty  of  it. 
"  Remember  now  thy  Creator,  in  the  days  of  thy 
youth." — Thirdly.  Your  own  happiness  is  concerned 
in  your  compliance  with  this  counsel. — That  happiness 
is  unworthy  of  the  name,  which  is  disturbed  by  the  re- 
membrance of  God.  The  contemplation,  and  enjoy- 
ment, and  service  of  the  Divine  Being  must  be  the 
honour  and  the  blessedness  of  every  rational  nature. 
There  is  a  propriety,  a  beauty,  and  a  glory,  in  early 
piety.  It  shall  be  "  an  ornament  of  grace  unto  thy  head^ 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.  XII.  1 7.  321 

and  chains  about  thy  neck."  And,  whilst  it  confers  ho- 
nour, it  imparts  happiness.  The  ways  of  wisdom  are 
"  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  (are)  peace. 
She  (is)  a  tree  of  life  to  them  that  lay  hold  upon  her; 
and  happy  (is  every  one)  that  retaineth  her."  The 
earlier,  therefore,  you  enter  on  these  ways,  you  will 
have,  according  to  the  time  that  God  may  spare  you, 
the  longer  period  of  true  enjoyment ; — of  enjoyment, 
uninterrupted  by  the  whispers  of  an  uneasy  conscience, 
and  the  scaring  apprehensions  of  a  coming  judgment ; 
of  enjoyment,  excellent  and  worthy  in  itself,  and  leav- 
ing no  stings  behind. 

And,  as  early  religion  is  the  way  to  happiness  in 
youth,  it  is  also  the  effectual  means  of  laying  it  up  for 
trouble  and  for  a^^".— *'  while  the  evil  days  come  not, 
nor  the  years  draw  nigh,  when  thou  shalt  say,  1  have 
no  pleasure  in  them." 

"  The  evil  days"  are  the  same  with  the  "  days  of 
darkness"  in  the  eighth  verse  of  the  preceding  chapter. 
They  are  days  of  trouble ;  days  of  gloom  and  sorrow, 
arising  from  one  or  other,  or,  it  may  be,  from  a  cono- 
bination,  of  the  numberless  "  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to." 
The  arrival  of  such  days,  sooner  or  later,  may  be  ex- 
pected by  all.  The  Divine  allotments,  indeed,  of  tem- 
poral enjoyment  and  suffering  are  exceedingly  diver- 
sified, and  the  principle  by  which  these  degrees  are 
measured  is  amongst  the  secrets  of  Deity,  giving  rise, 
in  its  sovereign  application,  to  many  a  wondering  ques- 
tion which  we  in  vain  attempt  to  answer.  But  every 
man  may  look  for  his  share  of  trial.  How  few  are  the 
lives  that  are  spent  without  days  of  darkness  !  And  for 
such  days,  a  course  of  mirthful  and  dissolute  forgetful- 
ness  of  God  is  surely  a  miserable  preparation.  What- 
ever may  be  the  thoughts  of  men,  or  whatever  their 
3  U 


o22  LECTURE  XXII. 

thoughtlessness,  in  the  time  of  comfort,  and  health,  and 
prosperity,  the  need  of  religion  is  universally  felt  in  the 
season  of  disease,  and  bereavement,  and  wo.  And, 
oh!  it  is  a  sad  thing,  when  "  the  evil  days  come,"  and 
come  suddenly,  and  our  sources  of  consolation  are  yet 
to  seek  : — to  seek,  when  perhaps  we  are  almost,  if  not 
utterly,  incapacitated  for  thinking,  by  the  nature  of  our 
bodily  distemper,  or  by  the  stunning,  and  stupifying, 
and  distractin.s:  influence  of  unanticipated  distress.  And 
would  it  not  be  righteous  in  an  insulted  and  offended 
Deity,  to  deny  his  comforts  in  the  season  of  need,  to 
those  who  had  slighted  and  refused  him  in  the  hours  of 
their  own  preferred  enjoyment  ?  who,  when  all  was  go- 
ing well  with  themj  **  walked  in  the  ways  of  their  heart, 
and  in  the  sight  of  their  eyes,"  and  presumptuously 
thought  they  could  do  without  Him ;  and  who,  instead 
of  being  drawn  to  him  by  the  choice  of  love,  are  driven 
to  him  by  the  mere  force  of  calamity  ?  Would  there 
not  be  justice  in  his  turning  away  his  ear  from  their 
cry,  and  saying,  "  Because  I  called,  and  ye  refused ;  I 
stretched  out  my  hands,  and  no  man  regarded  :  but  ye 
set  at  nought  all  my  counsel,  and  would  none  of  my 
reproof;  I  also  will  laugh  at  your  calamity  I  will  mock 
when  your  fear  cometh  !" 

If  you  survive  the  "days  of  evil," — if  you  are  not 
cut  off  in  youth  or  in  manhood, — old  age  must  come 
upon  you ;  "  the  years  must  draw  nigh  when  you  shall 
say,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  them  :"— that  is,  no  pleasure 
from  the  sources  which  yielded  it  before, — no  pleasure  of 
the  kind  to  which  you  gave  up  your  earlier  days.  Those 
things  which  gratified  your  youth,  and  kept  it  in  thought- 
less merriment,  will  then  lose  their  relish,  and  cease  to 
be  enjoyed  ;  and  if  you  have  not  previously  "  remem- 
bered  your  Cre.-itor,"  and  provided  other  and  more  en- 


ECCLES.  xr.  9j  10.  XII.  1 — 7.  523 

during  pleasures,  alas !  how  cheerless  will  be  the  years 
of  your  declining  life  ! — Before  these  years  draw  nigh, 
then,  lay  up  for  them  suitable  enjoyment.  The  only 
satisfying  pleasures,  the  only  pleasures  which  will  then 
remain,  will  be  those  of  true  religion.  Wlien  every 
other  spring  has  run  dry,  or  its  streams  have  become 
vapid  or  nauseous,  the  "  wells  of  salvation"  will  con- 
tinue in  all  their  fulness,  and  freshness,  and  sweetness. 
The  blessed  truths  of  God  will  yield  to  the  soul  conso- 
lation and  peace,  and  tranquil  gladness,  and  animating 
hope.  Instead  of  bitter  and  unavailing  regrets  for  plea- 
sures that  are  past  and  can  never  return,  you  will  ex- 
perience, amidst  the  felt  exhaustion  of  nature,  amidst 
the  'Mabour  and  sorrow"  of  fourscore  years,  a  "joy 
with  which  a  stranger  cannot  intermeddle."  Leaning 
on  the  arm  of  Divine  love  and  power,  you  will  pass 
without  fear  through  the  "  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,"  and  be  *•  gathered  to  the  grave,  as  a  shock  of 
corn,  fully  ripe,  is  brought  in  in  his  season." 

The  same  idea  of  the  cheerless  condition  of  age, 
without  provision  made  for  its  happiness  by  timely 
piety,  or  rather,  the  view  of  those  circumstances  in  age 
that  render  the  supports  and  consolations  of  religion 
peculiarly  necessary,  is  expended  in 

Verse  2.  "  While  the  sun,  or  the  light,  or  the  moon, 
or  the  stars,  be  not  darkened,  nor  the  clouds  return 
after  the  rain." 

The  darkening  of  the  sun  and  the  cheering  light  of 
day,  and  of  the  moon  and  stars  that  illuminate  and 
enliven  the  night,  may  be  explained  either  literally  of 
the  dimness  of  vision  that  is  incident  to  old  age,  or  in 
one  or  other  of  two  figurative  senses ;  of  the  cessation 
of  the  sprightly  enjoyment  of  the  lights  of  heaven,  in 
those  years  of  which  the  old  man  says,  "  I  have  no 


5S4  LECTURE  XXII. 

pleasure  in  them ;"  or  of  the  gloom  of  affliction,  the 
darkness  of  those  troubles  to  which  age  is  liable,  which 
occasion  dull  days  and  wearisome  night,  sun  and  moon 
being  alike  shrouded  in  obscuring  clouds.  The  first  of 
these  views  identifies  the  expression  in  meaning  with 
another  in  the  subsequent  descripton  of  old  age, — "and 
those  that  look  out  of  the  windows  be  darkened"  The 
second  and  third  are  so  closely  connected,  that  they 
anay  be  considered  as  one, — the  infirmities,  and  un- 
easiness, and  troubles  of  age  being  the  principal  cause 
of  light  itself  ceasing  to  charm,  and  losing  its  quicken- 
ing and  spirit-stirring  influence.  The  expression  thus 
stands  in  contrast  with  that  in  the  seventh  verse  of  the 
preceding  chapter,  "  Truly  the  light  is  sweet,  and  a 
pleasant  thing  it  is  for  the  eyes  to  behold  the  sun." 

"  The  clouds  returning  after  the  rain"  is  a  beautiful 
Hgure  for  a  succession  of  troubles.  Between  those  clouds 
that  darken  the  sky  of  age,  there  is  but  litile  interval. 
They  may  rack  and  disperse  for  a  short  while,  and  the 
spirits  be  eased  and  lightened  ;  but  instead  of  the  con- 
tinuance of  the  '*  clear  shining  after  rain,"  the  clouds 

return,  and  the  sky  is  overcast  anew Not  only  do  the 

distresses  of  advanced  life  multiply  from  the  enlarging 
circle  of  family  connections  and  of  "  children's  chil- 
dren," in  all  whose  trials  the  old  father's  heart  is  in- 
terested ;  but  the  exhaustion  of  the  bodily  energies, 
and  the  general  sinking  of  nature,  afford  little  respite 
from  varied,  and  sometimes  indescribable,  feelings  of 
uneasiness  and  distress.  The  varieties  in  the  condition 
of  old  men  are,  it  is  true,  very  considerable ;  and  to 
some  the  description  before  us  is  much  less  applicabje 
than  to  others.  We  meet  at  times  with  cases,  in  which, 
even  to  fourscore  years  and  ten,  the  sky  continues  un- 
usually serene,  the    "  cloudy  and  dark  days"   being 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.  XII.  1 — 7.  525 

rather  the  exception  to  those  of  sunshine  and  cheerful- 
ness. But  Solomon's  representation  is  not  that  of  ex- 
traordinary instances,  but  of  what  may  in  general  be 
expected. 

The  principle  by  which  we  should  be  guided  in  our 
interpretations  of  Scripture,  ought  to  be,  neither  predi- 
lection for  what  is  old,  nor  fondness  for  what  is  new, 
nor  the  vanity  of  being  original,  but  a  simple  regard  to 
truth  and  probability.  On  this  principle,  after  consider- 
ing such  explanations  as  have  come  in  my  way  of  the 
following  verses,  with  their  respective  critical  defences, 
I  am  satisfied  that  the  one  which  has  been  all  along  the 
most  common  is  the  most  natural ;  and  I  shall  therefore, 
without  entering  at  all  into  controversy,  which  would 
be  out  of  place,  and  foreign  to  my  purpose,  in  these 
lectures,  adopt  it  in  the  comments  I  am  now  to  offer 
you. 

Verses  3 — 5.  "  In  the  day  when  the  keepers  of  the 
house  shall  tremble,  and  the  strong  men  shall  bow 
themselves,  and  the  grinders  cease  because  they  are 
few,  and  those  that  look  out  of  the  windows  be  darken- 
ed ;  and  the  doors  shall  be  shut  in  the  streets,  when  the 
sound  of  the  grinding  is  low ;  and  he  shall  rise  up  at 
the  voice  of  the  bird ;  and  all  the  daughters  of  music 
shall  be  brought  low  :  also  (when)  they  shall  be  afraid 
of  (that  which  is)  high,  and  fears  (shall  be)  in  the  way, 
and  the  almond-tree  shall  flourish,  and  the  grasshopper 
shall  be  a  burden,  and  desire  shall  fail ;  because  man 
goeth  to  his  long  home,  and  the  mourners  go  about  the 
streets." 

"The  keepers  of  the  house  shall  tremble." — The 
hands  and  arms,  the  instruments  of  averting  threatened 
evil,  the  guards  and  defenders  of  "  the  earthly  house  of 
this  tabernacle,"  become  feeble  and  palsied,  constantly 


526  LECTURE  XXII. 

tremulous,  or  shaking  with  the  slightest  attempt  at  ef- 
fort, and  incapable  of  yielding  it  any,  even  the  smallest, 
protection  from  assault  and  injury.  Old  age  is  the  time 
of  the  felt  cessation  of  power.  *'  Cast  me  not  off  in  the 
time  of  old  age :  forsake  me  not,  when  my  strength 
faileth." 

"And  the  strong  men  bow  themselves." — The  limbs, 
however  robust  they  were  formerly,  bend  under  the 
weight  of  the  body,  tottering  with  extreme  frailty,  and 
unable  to  give  it  effectual  support.  The  strong  men  can 
no  longer  carry  their  burden  from  place  to  place :  they 
let  it  fall  in  the  attempt  even  to  raise  it. 

"  And  the  grinders  shall  cease,  because  they  are  few." 
— The  teeth,  which  perform  the  same  office  to  the  food 
as  the  millstone  to  the  corn,  comminuting  and  grinding 
it,  and  preparing  it  for  the  organs  of  digestion,  loosen 
and  fall  out ;  and  the  few  that  remain  become  incom- 
petent to  the  purpose  they  were  wont  to  serve,  so  that 
the  same  kinds  of  food  cannot  now  be  taken  as  before, 
and  the  mastication  of  those  which  are  taken  is  effected 
with  much  slowness  and  difficulty. 

''  And  those  that  look  out  of  the  windows  be  dark- 
ened'"— Another  striking  and  affecting  symptom  of 
age, — the  decay,  and  sometimes  the  total  loss,  of  sight ; 
exemplified  in  Isaac,  in  Jacob,  in  Eli,  and,  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree,  experienced  by  the  old  in  general.  The 
eyes,  which  from  their  bony  sockets,  as  from  the  win- 
dows of  the  "  earthly  house,"  look  out  upon  surround- 
ing objects,  examining  the  near,  surveying  the  distant, 
receiving  notices  from  without,  imparting  intelligence 
and  intimating  emotions  from  within,  watching  against 
evil  and  directing  to  good,  become  suffused  and  dim, 
and  fail  in  the  fulfilment  of  their  important  functions. 
All  is  obscurity  and  confusion.    The  brilliance  of  the 


ECCLES.  XT.  9,  iO.  xn.  1 — 7.  537 

light  itself  may  be  darkly  seen  ;  but  the  reflection  of  it 
from  the  objects  on  which  it  falls  is  too  faint  to  be  per- 
ceptible. Children  and  friends  approach,  but  the  eyes, 
which  wont  to  glance  with  pleasure,  turn  not  towards 
them ;  they  must  speak,  ere  they  can  be  distinguished. 
Dangers  are  at  hand ;  but  the  sentinels  of  the  house 
give  no  alarm.  Other  eyes  than  his  own  must  guide, 
and  inform,  and  warn,  the  sightless  old  man.  And  he 
is  bereft  too  of  one  of  the  richest  sources  of  enjoy- 
ment,— 

" from  the  clieerful  ways  of  men 

Cut  off,  and,  for  the  book  <>f  knowledge  fair. 
Presented  with  a  universal  blank 
Of  Nature's  works,  to  him  expung'd  and  raz'd. 
And  wisdom  at  one  entrance  quite  shut  out" 

"  And  the  doors  shall  be  shut  in  the  streets,  when 
the  sound  of  the  grinding  is  low."— There  is  evidently, 
in  this  particular,  an  allusion  to  the  noise  of  the  hand- 
mill  in  grinding  the  corn  for  the  day,  to  the  opening  of 
the  doors  in  the  morning  for  this  cheerful  work,  and  to 
the  lively  sound  of  its  accompanying  songs.  But  if  by 
the  grinders,  in  the  former  verse,  the  teeth  be  meant : 
then  in  this  verse  the  grinding  must  signify,  under  the 
allusion  mentioned,  the  work  which  the  teeth  perform. 
The  lips  are  in  other  parts  of  Scripture,  by  a  very  na- 
tural figure,  called  the  doors  of  the  mouth.  "  Set  a 
watch,  O  Lord,  before  my  mouth  :  keep  the  door  of 
my  lips.^^^  *'  Trust  ye  not  in  a  friend,  put  ye  not  con- 
fidence in  a  guide  ;  keep  the  doors  of  thy  mouth  from 
her  that  lieth  in  thy  bosom. "f — In  the  old  man,  when 
*'  the  grinders  cease,"  and  the  *'  sound  of  the  grinding 
is  low,"  the  lips  are  compressed  with  a  singular  firm- 
ness,— the  doors  of  the  mouth  shut,  with  a  closeness 
that  gives  the  countenance  of  age  one  of  its  most  marked 
peculiarities. 

♦  Psal.  cxli.  3.  t  Mic.  yii.  '>. 


538  LECTURE  XXII. 

,'*And  he  shall  rise  up  at  the  voice  of  the  bird."— 
This  probably  expressess  the  general  wakefulness  of 
age.  Were  the  interpretation  consistent  with  the  dulness 
of  ear  incident  to  this  period  of  life,  we  might  consider 
it  as  meaning  that  the  old  are  easily  disturbed — the 
slightest  noise  starding  them.  It  seems  rather,  how- 
ever, simply  to  signify  their  inability  to  rest.  They 
wake  early ;  even  as  soon  as  the  cock  crows,  or  the 
birds  begin  to  chirp,  in  the  morning :  whereas,  when 
young  and  vigorous,  exercise  prepared  them  for  repose, 
and  they  could  sleep  sound  and  long.  "  Tired  Nature's 
sweet  restorer"  flies  from  the  eyelids  of  age,  as  well  as 
from  those  of  wo. 

**  And  all  the  daughters  of  music  shall  be  brought 
low." — By  "  the  daughters  of  music,"  I  understand 
those  organs  that  are  employed  either  in  the  production^ 
or  in  the  enjoyment  of  it : — the  lungs,  which  inhale  the 
the  needful  supply  of  air;  that  exquisitely  beautiful 
mechanism  by  which  the  air,  in  its  passage  from  the 
lungs,  is  so  finely  and  delicately  modulated ;  and  the 
ear,  which,  by  a  structure  not  less  admirable,  is  adapted 
for  receiving  the  impressions  of  sound,  and  through 
which  the  sensations  of  delight  are  conveyed  to  the 
mind.  In  old  age,  the  play  of  the  lungs  is  less  easy,  and 
respiration  more  laborious ;  the  voice  becomes  tremu- 
lous and  feeble ;  and  the  command  of  its  modulation  is 
impaired,  not  only  by  the  rigidity  of  its  own  organs,  but 
by  the  obtuseness  of  those  of  hearing ;  by  which  last 
defect  too  the  pleasure  of  musical  sounds  is  diminished, 
or  lost.  The  voice  is  thus  unfitted  for  making  music, 
and  the  ear  for  enjoying  it. — "  I  am  this  day,"  said 
Barzillai  the  Gileadite  to  king  David,  in  declining  to 
accompany  him  to  Jerusalem,  "  I  am  this  day  fourscore 
years  old :   can  I  discern  between  good  and  evil  ?  can 


; 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.  XII.  1 — 7.  529 

thy  servant  taste  what  I  eat  or  what  I  drink  ?  can  I  hear 
any  more  the  voice  of  singing-men  and  singing- women? 
wherefore,  then,  should  thy  servant  be  yet  a  burden 
unto  my  lord  the  king  ?"* 

**  They  shall  be  afraid  of  (that  which  is)  high." — ■ 
Every  ascent  in  the  way,  up  which,  in  the  days  of  their 
youth,  they  would  have  bounded  with  agility  and  ease, 
is  now  discouraging  to  them.  They  stop,  and  take 
breath,  and  hesitate,  and,  unable  to  see  themselves, 
make  many  inquiries,  before  they  will  attempt  what, 
with  a  desponding  shake  of  the  head,  they  "  fear  wiU 
be  too  much  for  them." 

"  And  fears  (shall  be)  in  the  way."— They  are  full  of 
apprehensions  of  real  or  imaginary  dangers,— of  acci- 
dents that  may  happen  to  them, — of  obstacles  over 
which  they  may  stumble,— of  being  jostled  and  thrown 
down,  or  otherwise  hurt, — of  mischiefs  that  may  come 
in  their  way,  which  they  have  not  eyes  to  see,  nor 
strength  to  ward  off,  nor  agility  to  escape. 

"And  the  almond-tree  shall  flourish." — From  the 
particular  time  of  the  almond-tree's  flourishing,  it  has 
by  some  been  placed  early  in  spring,!  whilst  others 
have  assigned  it  to  winter.^  In  the  latter  view,  it  has 
been  considered  as  significant,  in  the  imagery  of  Solo- 
mon, of  the  closing  scene  of  life,  when 

" pale  concluding  winter  comes  at  last. 


And  shuts  the  scene." 

— But  the  existing  dubiety  about  the  season  gives  un- 
certainty  and  indistinctness  to  this  explanation ;  and 
both  on  this  account,  and  on  the  ground  of  its  own  su- 
perior beauty  and  appropriateness,  the  more  common 
view  of  the  figure  is  entitled  to  preference.  The  almond- 

*  2Sam.xix.35.      f  See  Cottonon  the  verse; — lilayneyon  Jer.  i.  11, 12;  &c. 
i  See  l):ith'U3  and  Viui  der  Palm  on  the  verse, 

3  X 


5S0  IxECTURE  XXII. 

tree,  covered  with  its  snow-white  blossoms  is  a  beauti- 
ful poetic  emblem  of  the  hoary  head  ;  and  the  casting 
of  the  blossoms  might  farther  represent  the  shedding  of 
the  silver  locks  from  the  venerable  brows  of  age. 

**  And  the  grasshopper  shall  be  a  burden." — By  those 
who  explain  the  preceding  emblem  from  the  season  of 
the  year,  this  also  has  been  interpreted  as  referring  to 
winter,  when  the  grasshopper,  which  in  summer  had 
been  all  sprightliness  and  agility,  becomes  languid  and 
inactive,  and  "  a  burden  (to  itself)."  Thus  it  is,  as  they 
allege  who  adopt  this  explanation  with  the  aged  man, 
when  he  experiences  the  feebleness  of  decrepitude,  and 
is  bowed  down  with  the  load  of  his  infirmities.*— But 
may  not  the  expression  be  intended  simply  to  convey 
the  idea  of  extreme  feebleness  ?  signifying,  not  that  the 
old  man  is,  like  the  grasshopper  at  a  particular  season, 
a  burden  to  himself,  although  that  is  true ;  but  that  to 
the  relaxed  and  palsied  imbecility  of  age,  the  lightest 
thing  is  a  load.  Would  it  be  an  inappropriate  expres- 
sion for  the  feebleness  of  an  unnerved  and  emaciated 
frame,  to  say  of  a  man,  he  was  become  so  exceedingly 

♦  ♦'  Locttsta,  slve  cicada,  per  xstatem  valde  agilis  ac  lata,  hyeme  languet, 
atque  ipsi  sibi  molesta  est." — Van  der  Palm.  It  may  be  owing  to  an  undue  sense 
oi  the  ludicrous,  but  I  never  have  been  able  to  view  in  any  other  light  than  as 
an  ingenious  conceit,  with  too  little  dignity  in  it  to  have  been  intended  by  So- 
lomon, the  resemblance  which  some  have  drawn,  and  have  supposed  to  have 
been  in  his  eye,  between  the  shape  of  the  grasshopper  and  the  decrepit  body  of 
a  very  infirm  old  man. — "  Cum  locusta  comparatur  senex,  propter  corpus  maci- 
lentum,  pedes  graclles,  et  incessum  incurvatum  ac  si  onere  premeretur." — 
JDatldus.  He  translates  the  words,  "  locusta  onerabitur,"  in  Eccles.  xii.  5.  "  the 
dry,  shrunk,  shrivelled,  crumpling,  craggy  old  man,  his  back  bone  sticking  out, 
his  knees  projecting  forwards,  his  arms  backwards,  his  head  downwards,  and 
the  apophyses,  or  bunching  parts  of  the  body,  in  general  enlarged,  is  very  aptly 
described  by  that  insect." — Parkhurst  on  the  word — who  refers  for  fuller  proof 
of  the  resemblance  to  Dr.  Smith's  King  Solomon' s  portraiture  of  old  age, — The 
resemblance  may  be  very  complete  ;  but  the  comparison,  I  confess,  conveys  a 
conception  to  my  mind  too  odd  and  ludicrous  to  be  willingly  admitted  on  such 
a  subject. 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.  XII.  1 — 7.  531 

weak  that  he  could  not  bear  a  fly  to  light  upon  hin\  ? 
This  I  take  to  be  the  meaning  of  the  grasshopper  being 
a  burden.  It  is  not  improbable,  that  the  phrase  was  a 
proverbial  one  for  the  utmost  degree  of  debility. 

"And  desire  shall  fail." — I  rest  in  the  ordinary  in- 
terpretation of  these  words,  as  signifying  the  cessation 
of  the  desire  of  animal  pleasures;  the  appetites  and 
propensities  of  nature  giving  way  with  the  departure  of 
the  warmth  of  youth,  the  cooling  of  the  blood,  the  sink- 
ing of  the  animal  spirits,  and  the  genenil  exhaustion  of 
the  energies  and  capacities  of  the  living  frame. 

"Because  man  goeth  to  his  long  home,  and  the 
mourners  go  about  the  streets." — The  grave  is  man's 
long,  or  perpetual  home.  As  time  advances,  indeed,  the 
epithets  will  become  less  and  less  appropriate,  as  the 
sleep  of  the  tomb  will  be  shorter  and  shorter,  till  the 
sounding  of  the  "  trump  of  God  ;"  when  the  slumbers 
of  centuries  and  the  repose  of  a  day  shall  be  disturbed 
together ;  when  righteous  Abel,  the  earliest  tenant  of 
the  tomb,  shall  quit  the  narrow  house,  and  the  breath 
shall  at  the  same  time  return  to  the  man  who  is  yet 
warm  in  his  shroud.  But  the  terms  were  appropriate  in 
Solomon's  days,  and  are  so  still  in  ours ;  and  to  all  who 
reach  the  grave  it  must  ever  continue  a  perpetual  home 
in  as  far  as  respects  their  return  to  "the  place  that 
knev/  them"  in  the  present  world.  "  When  a  few  years 
are  come,  then  I  shall  go  the  way  whence  I  shall  not 
return."  "  Man  lieth  down,  and  riseth  not ;  till  the 
heavens  be  no  more  they  shall  not  awake,  nor  be  raised 
out  of  their  sleep."  *'  As  the  cloud  is  consumed  and 
vanisheth  away,  so  he  that  goeth  down  to  the  grave 
shall  come  up  no  more.  He  shall  return  no  more  to 
his  house,  neither  shall  his  place  know  him  any  more." 
—Perhaps  the  **  long  home"  may  mean;  not  specifically 


^3S  LECTURE  XXll. 

the  grave,  but  the  future  state  in  general,— the  "un- 
discovered country,  from  whose  bourne  no  traveller 
returns,"— where  the  condition  of  every  individual  is 
immediately  and  irreversibly  settled. 

*'  The  mourners  going  about  the  streets"  refers  to 
the  ancient  eastern  custom  of  employing  official  mour- 
ners, who  were  hired  for  the  purpose  of  wailing  for  the 
dead  :  raising  public  lamentations  over  them  ;  attending 
at  their  funeral  obsequies ;  by  dress,  and  voice,  and 
gesture,  and  all, the  outward  expressions  of  grief,  mov- 
ing the  feelings  of  kindred  and  spectators;  and  praising 
the  excellences  of  the  departed  in  dirges  of  plaintive 
music,  which,  in  extraordinary  cases,  were  even  re- 
corded amongst  the  sacred  melodies  of  the  country. 
Thus  "the  singing-men  and  singing- women"  cele- 
brated the  virtues  of  good  king  Josiah.  They  "spoke 
of  Josiah  in  their  lamentations,"  says  the  writer  of  the 
Chronicles,  "  unto  this  day,  and  made  them  an  ordi- 
nance in  Israel :  and  behold  they  are  written  in  the 
Lamentations."*  To  the  same  description  of  persons 
the  prophet  Jeremiah  alludes,  when,  weeping  for  the 
slain  of  the  daughter  of  his  people,  he  says,  "  Thus 
saith  the  Lord,  Consider  ye,  and  call  for  the  mourning 
women  that  they  may  come ;  let  them  make  haste,  and 
take  up  a  wailing  for  us,  that  our  eyes  may  run  down 
with  tears,  and  our  eyelids  gush  out  with  waters."! 

Our  customs  differ  from  theirs.  We  should  be  apt 
to  think  this  kind  of  mercenary  and  fictitious  sorrow  a 
burden  rather  than  a  gratification  to  the  disconsolate 
spirit  of  bereaved  and  agonized  affection,  and  likely, 
besides,  in  most  instances,  to  be  proportioned  to  the 
wealth  more  than  to  the  worth  of  its  subject.  But  we 
also  have  every  day   before    our  eyes    the   sight  of 

»  3  Clu-on.  XXXV.  ?5,  \  Jer.  ix,  17,  IS. 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.  XII.   1 — 7.  i533 

"mourners,"  although  not  of  the  same  description, 
"going  about  the  streets;"  relatives  and  friends  as- 
suming in  succession  for  each  other  the  garb  of  sor- 
row. The  man  of  grey  hairs  has  followed  many  a  bier 
in  the  course  of  his  fourscore  years,— has  dropt  his 
tears  of  tender  sympathy,  or  of  heart-broken  anguish, 
over  many  a  grave : — and  now  at  length  the  mourners 
assemble  for  himself,  and  follow  him  to  "  his  long 
home,"  and  commit  his  loved  and  venerated  dust  to 
the  house  of  silence. 

Various  have  been  the  interpretation  of  verse  6.  "  Or 
ever  the  silver  cord  be  loosed,  or  the  golden  bowl  be 
broken,  or  the  pitcher  be  broken  at  the  fountain,  or  the 
wheel  broken  at  the  cistern." 

The  silver  cord  being  loosed,  and  the  golden  bowl 
broken,  have  been  thought  to  represent  life  under  the 
image  of  a  lamp  of  gold  suspended  by  a  cord  of  silver 
threads  from  the  ceiling  of  a  festive  hall,  enlightening 
and  enlivening  the  company :— but  the  cord  loosens  or 
snaps  asunder,  the  lamp  falls  and  is  broken,  the  light  is 
extinguished,  and  all  is  involved  in  gloom.*'— The  re- 
mainder  of  the  verse  has  been  interpreted  as  a  figure 
taken  from  the  furniture  of  a  well.  The  bucket  and  the 
wheel  are  broken :  the  water  can  no  longer  be  drawn : 
and,  instead  of  the  busy  and  lively  scene  that  was  wont 
to  surround  the  well's  mouth,  all  is  solitude  and  silence, 
the  ground  untrodden,  the  water  stagnant. — The  ima- 
gery of  the  entire  verse  has  by  others  been  traced  to 
this  latter  source.  "  There  is  a  cord  to  the  howl,  or 
bucket,  with  which  the  water  is  drawn ;  a  -wheel  by 
which  the  more  easily  to  raise  it ;  a  cistern,  into  whicii 
it  may  be  poured  ;  and  a  pitcher,  or  vessel  to  carry  it 
away  with  : — but  now  all  are  broken  or  loosened,  and 

*  Dathlus. 


534  LECTURE  XXII. 

become  useless."  Thus  at  death,  all  the  functions  of 
life  terminate,  and  the  entire  mechanism  of  the  human 
frame  is  shattered  and  goes  to  decay.  "  The  lungs 
cease  to  play,  the  heart  ceases  to  beat,  the  blood  to  cir- 
culate ;  every  vessel  becomes  useless ;  the  whole  sur- 
prising contrivance  for  forming  and  communicating  the 
blood,  which  is  the  life,  from  the  fountain  of  the  heart 
to  every  extremity  of  the  body,  is  entirely  deranged  : 
the  silver  cord  is  loosed,  the  golden  bowl  is  broken, 
the  pitcher  and  the  wheel  are  alike  marred.  "* 

But  I  cannot  persuade  myself  to  dismiss  this  interest- 
ing description  thus  hastily.— One  of  the  difficulties 
which  we  feel  in  the  explanation  of  it,  arises  from  our 
not  being  acquainted  with  the  terms  and  phrases  then 
employed  in  the  different  departments  of  natural  science, 
as  far  as  the  cultivation  of  them  extended  ;  nor  even 
with  the  names  in  common  use,  for  many  of  the  parts 
especially  in  the  internal  structure  of  the  animal  ma- 
chine. I  can  hardly  suppose  the  phraseology  of  Solo- 
mon here  to  have  been  entirely  poetical,  1  mean  the  im- 
mediate invention  of  his  own  fancy  alone,  expressing 
resemblances  that  had  presented  themselves  to  his  own 
mind,  but  had  not  at  all  been  previously  recognized  in 
the  language  of  ordinary  life.  It  is  well  known  how 
many  of  the  terms  and  designations  by  which  anato- 
mists have  chosen  to  distinguish  the  different  organs' 
and  functions  of  the  human  frame  arc  figurative, — bor- 
rowed  from  obvious  or  remote  analogies,  and  likenesses 
to  other  objects  and  operations  in  nature ;— and  the  same 
terms  and  phrases,  or  others  framed  on  similar  princi- 
ples, are  to  be  found  in  common  discourse. 

Suppose,  then,  we  adopt  the  common  explanation  of 
the  "  silver  cord,"  (which  I  confess  myself  disposed  to 

♦  Scott's  Commentary. 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.  XII.   1 — 7.  535 

do)  as  signifying  the  spinal  marrow, — that  prolongation 
of  the  brain  which  comes  down  in  the  central  tuljc  of 
the  back  bone,  and  sends  off  nerves  in  all  directions, 
which  branch  into  innumerable  fibres,  distributed  to 
the  remotest  extremities  : — is  it  at  all  necessary  that  we 
consider  the  name  as  Solomon's  own,_a  fine  poetical 
image  ?  At  the  risk  of  marring  to  some  minds  the 
beauty  of  the  image,  I  must  say  that  1  think  it  more 
likely  to  have  been  the  common  name  for  the  part  of 
our  frame  in  question.  We  can  hardly  conceive  a  de- 
signation more  strikingly  appropriate.  The  medullary 
cordf  it  is  often  called  by  anatomists  at  this  day ;  and 
why  it  should  be  denominated  the  silver  cord,  no  one 
need  be  told,  that  has  seen  its  silvery  whiteness,  which 
is  particularly  remarkable  as  it  appears  in  the  living 
subject,  or  when  exposed  while  death  is  recent  and  the 
body  fresh.— The  loosing  of  the  silver  cord  is  the  final 
cessation  of  nervous  influence  and  of  all  sensibility. — 
It  is  by  means  of  the  nerves  that  the  soul  transmits  and 
effectuates  its  volitions.  It  is  by  them  also  that  all  the 
bodily  senses  convey  to  it  the  impressions  made  upon 
them  by  their  respective  objects.  Is  it,  then,  refining 
too  much,  to  regard  the  nerves  as  the  medium  of  com- 
munion between  the  body  and  the  mind? — the  bond, 
as  it  were,  of  their  connection  and  intercourse  ? — and 
the  loosing  of  the  silver  cord  as  the  dissolution  of  their 
intimate  and  mysterious  fellowship  ? 

By  the  <' golden  bowl"  some  understand  the  heart.' 
But  to  a  bowl  the  heart  bears  no  great  resemblance,  and 
still  less  to  one  of  gold  ;  and  it  is  more  probably  repre- 
sented, in  next  clause  of  the  verse,  by  the  fountain. — 
There  are  two  membranes  that  envelope  the  brain  ;  the 
one,  firm  and  opaque,  surrounding  the  whole  mass  ; 
yet,  though  in  contact,  not  properly  connected  with  it, 


530  LECTURE  XXlI. 

but  rather  lining  the  skull ;— the  other,  soft,  delicate,^ 
and  transparent,  closely  attached  to  the  brain,  insinua- 
ting itself  between  all  its  convolutions,  compacting  and 
lubricating  the  whole.  The  golden  bowl  might  be  the 
common  anatomical  name  for  this  beautiful  integument, 
both  on  account  of  its  globular  shape,  and  from  its  yel- 
lowish colour,  bearing  a  nearer  resemblance  to  that  of 
gold  than  any  other  part  of  the  body.  There  is  no  oc- 
casion, in  this  any  more  than  in  the  former  case,  for 
having  recourse  to  poetical  imagery.  There  is  in  truth 
much  more  of  fancy  and  metaphor  in  the  designations 
of  the  severe  and  the  affectionate  mother^'^  given  in 
modern  anatomy  to  the  two  membranes  I  have  men- 
tioned, than  in  that  of  the  golden  bowl,  which  is 
founded  surely  in  a  greatly  simpler  and  more  direct  re- 
semblance.— I  have  somewhere  seen  it  said,  that  this 
membrane  is  frequently  shrivelled  and  ruptured  at 
death.  But  whatever  be  in  this,  the  breaking  of  the 
golden  bowl  may  signify  the  termination  of  all  the 
functions  of  that  most  essential  and  precious  organ  of 
the  mind's  operations,  the  brain. — **  In  that  very  day^ 
his  thoughts  perish." 

The  expressions  which  follow  have  been  conceived 
to  refer  to  the  circulation  of  the  blood :— "  and  the 
pitcher  be  broken  at  the  fountain,  and  the  wheel  be 
broken  at  the  cistern." — The  discovery  of  this  most 
wonderful  and  beautiful  process  being  attributed  to  an 
Vnatomist  of  our  own  country,  at  a  period  comparatively 
very  recent,  it  may  be  reckoned  extravagant  to  sup- 
pose the  knowledge  of  it  to  have  been  possessed  by 
Solomon  in  so  remote  an  age  of  antiquity.  It  is  not  at 
all  impossible,  however,  that  this  knowledge  might 
then  have  existed,  and,  like  some  other  branches  of 

*  Dura  mater,  and  pia  mater, 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.   XII.  1 — 7.  537 

science,  have  been  subsequently  lost ;  which  does  not 
in  the  least  detract  from  the  praise  due  to  the  modern 
discoverer.  It  seems  exceedingly  unlikely  that  the  cir- 
culation of  the  blood  should  be  an  entire  secret  till  so 
late  as  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century.  Pas- 
sages have  been  quoted  from  different  writers,  which 
seem  to  prove,  that  it  was  not  unknown  to  the  ancients  ; 
whatever  uses  they  made  of  their  acquaintance  with  it, 
and  in  whatever  ways  they  might  account  for  its  curi- 
ous and  astonishing  phenomena.  But,  at  any,  rate,  let 
us  recollect  what  the  inspired  record  affirms  of  the  ex- 
tent of  information,  in  the  various  departments  of  na- 
tural science,  acquired  by  Solomon.  It  is  true  that  wc 
have  no  remains  of  his  researches  in  human  and  com-- 
parative  anatomy.  But  the  same  thing  is  true  of  other 
branches,  in  which  we  know  him  to  have  excelled.  He 
"  spoke  of  trees,  from  the  cedar-tree  that  is  in  Lebanon, 
even  unto  the  hyssop  that  springcth  out  of  the  wall :" 
— yet  where  are  now  the  traces  of  Solomon's  botany  ? 
"He  spoke  also  of  beasts  :" — what  has  become  of  his 
zoology  ? — "  and  of  fowl,  and  of  creeping  things,  and 
of  fishes:"— are  any  extant  works,  or  remnants  of 
works,  to  be  found  in  the  departments  of  natural  his- 
tory that  treat  of  these  ? — Even  the  intimation,  general 
as  it  is,  that  these  different  provinces  of  animated  na- 
ture were  eSitensively  explored,  and  carefully  studied 
by  him,  warrants  the  conclusion  that  he  was  not  inat- 
tentive to  their  internal  and  comparative  structure  :  and 
when  we  connect  with  this  the  penetrating  sagacity  and 
comprehensive  enlargement  of  his  mind,  we  may  feel 
our  incredulity  mitigated  at  least,  if  not  entirely  re- 
moved, respecting  his  acquaintance  with  the  sanguine- 
ous system. 

The  HEART   is  the   fountain,  from   which  the 
3  Y 


'53B  LECTtRE  xxir. 

streams  of  vital  nourishment  pervade  the  whole  animal 
frame.  To  enter  into  any  minute  detail  of  the  manner 
in  which  it  performs  its  office,  and  of  the  entire  system 
of  venous  and  arterial  vessels,  would  be  utterly  out  of 
place.  Some  general  idea,  however,  may  be  given  of 
the  process. — For  the  due  performance  of  its  functions, 
the  human  heart  is  divided  into  four  distinct  cavities 
or  chambers.  From  one  of  these,  on  the  left  side  of 
the  heart,  the  blood,  in  its  pure  state,  is  forced,  by  the 
powerful  contraction  of  this  wonderful  organ,  (a  con- 
traction produced  by  the  quantity  and  the  stimulating 
virtue  of  the  blood  itself,)  into  the  open  mouth  of  one 
large  artery,  which  immediately  branches  off  in  smaller 
divisions,  and  these  again  in  smaller,  till  their  number- 
less and  unsearchably  minute  ramifications  have  dif- 
fused the  streams  of  life,  and  warmth,  and  nourish- 
ment, to  the  remotest  extremities  of  the  body, — so 
perfectly,  you  all  are  aware,  that  you  cannot  pierce  the 
skin  with  the  point  of  a  needle,  without  puncturing  a 
vessel,  and  drawing  blood.  From  the  arteries,  the  blood 
is  taken  up  by  the  mouths  of  innumerable  small  veins, 
which,  reversing  what  took  place  with  the  arteries, 
unite  into  larger  and  larger  branches,  (like  rills  uniting 
into  streamlets,  and  these  into  rivers,)  till  at  length,  by 
two  large  veins,  one  bringing  it  from  the  superior,  and 
the  other  from  the  lower  parts  of  the  body,  it  is  poured 
into  the  upper  cavity,  (where  these  two  veins  unite,) 
on  the  right  side  of  the  heart,— the  side  opposite  to  that 
from  which  it  has  issued.— But  observe — the  blood  is 
not  now  in  the  same  state.  It  issued  of  a  bright  red 
colour,  and  fit  for  the  purposes  of  life.  It  is  now  of  a 
dark  purple  hue,  and,  in  its  passage  through  the  body, 
has  either  contracted  or  parted  with  such  qualities,  as 
to  be  no  longer  capable  of  supporting  life,— of  giving 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.  xir.  1 — 7.  539 

warmth  and  nourishment  to  the  animal  frame.  It  must 
be  again  purified.  And  wonderful  is  the  provision  made 
for  this  necessary  purpose.  From  the  upper  cavity  on 
the  side  of  the  heart  to  which  the  blood  was  restored 
by  the  veins,  it  passes  into  the  inferior  chamber  on  the 
same  side  :  and  thence  it  is  propelled,  through  a  large 
artery,  to  the  lungs.  Into  the  lungs  we  are  continually, 
by  respiration,  drawing  the  air  of  the  atmosphere.  The 
vessels  into  which  the  air  is  drawn,  lie  close  along-side 
of  the  blood-vessels,  throughout  the  entire  substance  of 
the  lungs.  The  air  which  we  inhale  is  found,  when 
we  breathe  it  out  again,  to  have  lost  its  purity,  and  to 
have  become  unfit  for  the  support  of  animal  life.  That 
which  it  has  lost  has  been  imparted,  by  a  mysterious 
chemical  process,  to  the  blood  ;  which  is  sent  back  from 
the  lungs,  in  its  original  purity,  by  several  large  veins, 
which  unite  at  the  upper  cavity,  or  reservoir,  on  the 
left  side  of  the  heart.  From  this  it  passes  into  the  in- 
ferior cavity,  from  which  it  had  first  issued,  and  com- 
mences anew  its  nutritious  course  through  the  system. 
— Thus,  there  are  properly  two  circulations, — a  greater 
and  a  lesser  ;  one  through  the  body,  the  other  through 
the  lungs ;  both  equally  essential,  each  being  useless 
without  the  other ;  and  both  incessantly  going  on  to- 
gether : — two  hearts,  in  truth,  beating  simultaneously, 
receiving  the  blood  at  the  same  instant,  the  one  from 
the  body  and  the  other  from  the  lungs,  and  then  at  the 
same  instant  driving  it  through  the  body  and  through 
the  lungs  again,  and  that  at  the  rate  of  seventy  strokes 
every  minute,  during  the  whole  course  of  a  man's  life  ! 
The  various  arrangements,  und  exquisite  contrivances, 
by  which  both  these  circulations  are  effected,  so  as  to 
go  forward  continually,  independently  of  our  volitions, 
present  a  display  of  wisdom  and  power  utterly  over- 


540  LECTURE  XXW. 

whelming;  such  as  no  man  can  contemplate  in  a  pro- 
per  frame  of  mind,  without  adoring  the  Author  of  his 
being,  and  exclaiming,  •'  I  am  fearfully  and  wonder- 
fully made  :" — "  O  Lord,  how  manifold  are  thy  works! 
in  wisdom  hast  thou  made  them  all." 

In  the  verse  before  us,  then,  we  may  suppose  the 
heart  to  be  the  "fountain  :"— the  great  artery,  which 
receives  the  blood  immediately  from  it,  to  be  distri- 
buted through  all  the  rest,  may  be  intended  by  the 
"  pitcher  :"— and  the  *'  pitcher  is  broken  at  the  foun- 
tain," when,  at  death,  this  vessel  loses  its  elastic  pro- 
pelling power,  ceases  to  act,  collapses,  and  lies  empty 
and  useless. 

The  -wheel  was  a  power  by  which  the  water  was 
drawn  from  the  cistern,  ov  pit.  It  may  be  understood 
to  represent  the  lungs,  the  organ  of  respiration.  And 
this  indeed  seems  to  be  the  great  impelling  power  of 
the  whole  living  system ;  on  which  depend  all  the  effec- 
tive movements  of  the  heart  itself,  and  consequently  of 
every  other  part  of  the  animal  frame.  The  play  of  the 
heart  is  maintained  by  the  play  of  the  lungs,  by  which 
its  purity  and  its  stimulant  powers  are  imparted  to  the 
blood.  So  that,  by  analogy,  not  indeed  in  all  respects 
correct,  but  as  well  grounded  as  some  more  modern 
ones  in  anatomical  science,  the  lungs  may  be  said  to 
bring  its  fluid  contents  from  the  heart,  as  the  wheel 
draws  the  water  from  the  well — When  death  ap- 
proaches, the  lungs  gradually  cease  to  play ;  less  and 
less  air  is  inhaled,  and  inhaled  with  irregularity  and 
difl&culty  ;  the  action  of  the  heart  becomes  propor- 
tionally feeble  and  intermittent ;  till  at  length  the  last 
breath  is  faintly  expired  ;  the  lungs  collapse ;  the  pulses 
all  cease ;  and  the  stillness  of  death  ensues.— And  then— 

Verse  7.  *'  The  dust  shall  return  to  the  earth  as  it 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.   xir.  i — 7.  541 

was,  and  the  spirit  shall  return  to  God  who  gave  it." — 
The  body,  formed  originally  from  the  dust,  shall  un- 
dergo the  full  execution  of  its  sentence, — "  Dust  thou 
(art,)  and  unto  dust  thoushalt  return:"  a  sentence  pro- 
nounced on  man,  in  consequence  of  his  sin,  and  of  which 
the  stroke  of  de^,  throughout  successive  generations, 
has  been  the  righteous  fulfilment.  For,  although  man 
was  formed  from  the  dust,  he  was  not  on  that  account 
necessarily  mortal.  The  power  that  gave  him  life  was 
able  to  sustain  it  in  never-fading  vigour.  We  talk  of 
death  as  coming  in  the  course  of  nature.  But  of  the 
original  course  of  nature,  when  man  came,  in  the  beauty 
of  holiness,  from  his  Creator's  hand,  it  was  no  part.  It 
pertains  to  the  course  of  fallen  nature.  Man  was  deadi- 
less  while  he  was  sinless.  He  became  mortal  when  he 
apostatized  from  God.  And  the  universality  of  the  reign 
of  death  is  a  mournful  but  conclusive  evidence  of  the 
universality  of  the  apostasy.  Everj'-  shrouded  corpse, 
and  every  opening  grave,  should  lead  our  minds  back 
to  the  entrance  of  sin,— to 

" — man's  first  disobedience,  and  the  fruit 
Of  that  forbidden  tree,  whose  mortal  taste 
Brought  deatli  into  the  world,  and  all  our  wo." 

And  while  the  body  is  consigned  to  the  grave,  to  be 
food  for  the  loathsome  worm,  and  to  mingle  with  the 
dust  of  former  generations,  the  immortal  spirit,  the  te- 
nant of  this  earthly  tabernacle,  shall—perish  with  it?  No. 
—Sleep  with  it  in  the  tomb  for  ages  in  a  state  of  insensi- 
bility ?  No. — It  shall  "  return  unto  God  who  gave  it." 
— Solomon  was  no  materialist  He  did  not  consider  the 
soul  as  of  the  same  substance  with  the  body,  and  thought 
as  the  mere  result  of  certain  modifications  and  arrange- 
ments of  matter  and  motion,  and  death  the  final  destruc- 
tion of  the  whole  man  ; — but  the  body  as  only  the  or- 


543  LECTURE  XXII. 

gan  of  the  indwelling  spirit,  like  a  complete  set  of 
admirably  adapted  instruments,  by  which  it  acquired 
its  knowledge,  and  reduced  that  knowledge  to  use  in 
the  execution  of  the  dictates  of  its  will ;  and  the  soul, 
though  acting  by  means  of  the  body  while  it  continues 
its  occupant,  yet  capable  of  existence,*  of  thought  and 
of  activity,  in  a  state  of  separation  from  it.  Of  the  man- 
ner, it  is  true,  in  which  a  spirit  exists,  and  thinks,  and 
acts,  and  enjoys,  in  its  disembodied  state,  we  can  form 
no  distinct  conception ;  but  we  are  quite  as  ignorant  of 
the  manner  in  which  spirit  operates  on  matter  when 
connected  with  it ;  for,  though  we  know  the  facts,  we 
cannot  account  for  them  :  and  if  even  the  facts  that  are 
attested  by  our  senses  and  experience  we  are  unable  to 
explain,  ought  not  this  to  prevent  incredulity  and  scepti- 
cism, as  to  others  that  are  beyond  the  sphere  of  our  ob- 
servation, and  which  we  have  no  cause  for  doubting 
but  our  incapacity  to  conceive  of  them  ? 

Nor  was  the  soul,  according  to  Solomon,  to  fall, 
during  the  sleep  of  the  body  in  the  grave,  into  a  state 
of  insensibility,  or  unconsciousness. — Had  it  been  to 
partake  in  the  deep  slumbers  of  the  tomb,  it  coul^  not 
have  been  said  to  "  return  to  God  who  gave  it"  any 
more  than  the  body.  The  distinction  between  the  two 
is  marked ;  and  the  existence  of  the  soul,  in  life  and 
consciousness,  when  separate  from  the  body,  emphati- 
cally declared. 

When  the  spirit  thus  returns  to  God,  we  are  not  to 
understand  that  in  every  instance  it  is  to  remain  in  his 
presence,  and  to  enter  into  his  joy.  It  goes  to  receive 
its  doom  from  the  supreme  Judge  ;  a  doom,  not  at  that 
time  formally  pronounced  indeed,  but  which  the  subse- 
quent decisions  of  the  great  day  shall  only  recognize 
and  ratify.     That  day  of  formal  judicial  sentence  may 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.    XII.  1 — 7.  543 

be  distant :  but  this  is  not  inconsistent  with  immediiite 
transition  at  death  to  happiness  or  wo,— with  the  ^'  spirits 
of  the  just"  being  "  made  perfect"  in  heaven,  and  the 
souls  of  the  wicked  "  going  to  their  own  place,"  to  that 
"  everlasting  fire  that  is  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his 
angels."—"  The  beggar  died,  and  was  carried  by  the 
angels  into  Abraham's  bosom.  The  rich  man  also  died, 
and  was  buried ;  and  in  hell  he  lifted  up  his  eyes,  being 
in  torments." 

The  feelings,  my  friends,  with  which  we  contemplate 
the  description  in  this  passage,  or  behold  it  realized  in 
our  aged  friends  or  others  around  us,  must  vary  accord- 
ing to  the  characters  and  the  prospects  of  those  in  whom 
we  witness  the  symptoms  of  decay  and  of  approaching 
dissolution. — "  The  hoary  head  is  a  crown  of  glory, 
when  it  is  found  in  the  way  of  righteousness."  There 
is  not  on  earth  a  more  venerable  and  delightful  spectacle 
than  that  of  an  aged  pilgrim  "  walking  with  God  :"  and 
a  more  affecting  and  deeply  melancholy  sight  can  hardly, 
on  the  contrary,  be  imagined,  than  that  of  a  hoary- 
headed  sinner,  who  has  lived  his  fourscore  years  "  with- 
out God  in  the  world  !" — all  that  time,  God  calling  and 
he  refusing  : — and  the  Almighty  "  angry  with  him  every 
day  :" — his  body  now  bowed  down  beneath  the  weight 
of  years,.— all  his  powers,  of  action  and  of  enjoyment, 
decaying, — every  hour  likely  to  be  his  last, — time  all 
behind  him,  and  eternity  all  before  him, — and  his  soul 
still  "  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins," — the  hour  of  his 
departure  come,  and  no  readiness  for  the  world  to 
which  he  is  bound  ! — O  with  what  opposite  emotions 
do  we  contemplate  old  age  in  this  character,  and  in  the 
saint  of  God,  who,  in  approaching  the  close  of  his  earthly 
pilgrimage,  is  drawing  near  to  what  has  long  been  the 
goal  of  his  hopes  and  desires  ;  who,  while  outwardly 


54)4  LECTITRE  XXII. 

decaying,  is  inwardly  maturing  for  heaven ;  in  whom 
every  symptom  of  coming  death  is  but  a  symptom  of 
approaching  life  ;  and  who  in  the  final  exhaustion  of 
nature,  bids  adieu  to  the  world  in  the  words  of  aged 
Simeon,  *'  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in 
peace,— for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation  !" 

True,  indeed,  it  is  painful  for  affection  to  mark  the 
indications  of  increasing  feebleness  in  the  objects  of 
its  tender  regard ;  to  see  infirmities  multiplying,  and 
troubles  gaining  ground,  which  it  feels  its  inability  to 
remove,  and  can  only  soothe  by  the  gentle  offices  of 
kindness ;  to  be  thus  continually  reminded,  that  the 
hour  is  at  hand  when  the  dear  old  father,  or  friend,  to 
whom  it  has  long  clung  in  fond  attachment,  must  take 
his  final  leave.  And  when  that  hour  arrives,— when  the 
"  silver  cord  is  loosed,  the  golden  bowl  broken,  the 
pitcher  broken  at  the  fountain,  and  the  wheel  broken 
at  the  cistern ;"  even  though  the  event  had  long  been 
anticipated,  who  can  witness  it  without  deep  emotion  ? 
— who  can  part  even  from  exhausted  age  without  a  pang 
of  inexpressible  tenderness  ? 

Of  all  the  periods  and  events  of  life,  the  concluding 
scene  is  the  one  of  deepest  interest  to  the  person  him- 
self, and  to  surviving  spectators.  Various  are  the  ways 
in  which  it  comes,  and  various  the  aspects  it  presents; 
but  in  all  it  is  solemn.  What  can  be  more  so,  than  the 
approach  of  that  moment,  which,  to  the  dying  man,  is 
the  boundary  between  time  and  eternity  !  which  con- 
dudes  the  one,  and  commences  the  other,  which  termi- 
nates all  his  interests  in  this  v.orld,  and  fixes  his  con- 
dition for  a  never-ending  existence  in  ttie  world  un- 
known !— What  can  be  more  so,  than  those  moments 
of  silent  and  indescribable  anxiety,  when  the  last  sands 
of  the  numbered  hour  are  running  ;  when  the  beat  of 


ECCLES.  xt.  9,  10.  xit.  1 — 7.  5\5 

tlie  heart  has  become  too  languid  to  be  felt  at  the  ex- 
tremities of  the  frame  ;  when  the  cold  hand  returns  not 
the  gentle  pressure  ;  when  the  restless  limbs  lie  still 
and  motionless;  when  the  eye  is  fixed,  and  the  ear 
turns  no  more  toward  the  voice  of  consoling  kindness; 
when  the  breatli,  before  oppressive  and  laborious,  be- 
comes feebler  and  feebler,  till  it  dies  slowly  away,— 
and  to  the  listening  ear  there  is  no  sound  amidst  the 
breathless  silence,  nor  to  the  arrested  eye,  that  watches 
with  the  unmoving  look  of  thrilling  solicitude  for  the 
last  symptom  of  remaining  life,  is  motion  longer  pre- 
ceptible  ; — when  surrounding  friends  continue  to  speak 
in  whispers,  and  to  step  through  the  chamber  on  the 
tiptoe  of  cautious  quietness,  as  if  still  fearful  of  disturb- 
ing him— whom  the  noise  of  a  thousand  thunders  could 
not  now  startle, — who  has  fallen  on  that  last  sleep,  from 
which  nothing  shall  rouse  but  "  the  voice  of  the  arch- 
angel, and  the  trump  of  God." 

Solemn  and  affecting  as  the  scene  is,  when  man  thus 
"  goeth  to  his  long  home," — when  age  closes  in  death, 
— when  "  the  dust  returns  to  the  earth  as  it  was,  and 
the  spirit  to  God  who  gave  it ;"  how  sweetly  cheering, 
how  inexpressibly  consoling  is  it,  when  the  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  death  is  lighted  from  heaven  ;  and  when 
the  grave,  dark  and  dreary  as  it  is,  is  closed  over  the 
dead,  "  in  the  sure  and  certain  hope,"  that  as  "  Jesus 
died  and  rose  again,  even  so  them  also  who  sleep  in 
Jesus  will  God  bring  with  him." 

Ye  aged  pilgrims,  who  have  begun  to  experience  and 
to  exemplify  the  truth  of  Solomon's  description, — fear 
not.  Let  your  trust  be  in  Him  who  hath  said,  "  1  will 
never  leave  thee,  I  will  never  forsake  thee  :" — ''  (Even) 
to  (your)  old  age  (am)  he  ;  and  (even)  to  hoar  hairs 
will  I  carry  (you.")  Ijook  backward  with  gratitude, 
T  Z 


046  LECTURE  XXII. 

look  upward  with  confidence,  and  look  onward  widi 
hope.  Your  "  heart  and  your  flesh  fail ;  (but)  God  (is) 
the  strength  of  your  heart,  and  your  portion  for  ever." 
And  O  ye  who  have  lived  from  childhood  to  youth, 
and  from  youth  to  age,  regardless  of  God  and  of  eter- 
nity, with  no  relish  for  any  pleasures  but  those  of  time 
and  sense,  "  walking  in  the  ways  of  your  hearts,  and  in 
the  sight  of  your  eyes,"  and  to  whom  the  years  have 
'*  drawn  nigh,"  and  have  come,  when  the  zest  of  those 
earlier  pleasures  is  gone,  and  there  is  nothing  in  their 
stead, — to  whom  remembrance  yields  only  regrets,  and 
anticipation  doubts  and  fears  : — O  end  not  as  you  have 
begun :  die  not  as  you  have  lived :  you  have  thrown 
away  your  life ;  throw  not  away  eternity  too.  Your 
guilt  has  been  deep ;  your  folly  has  been  extreme  ; 
your  danger  is  imminent ;  but  I  dare  not  say, — the 
mercy  of  God  in  the  gospel  forbids  me  to  say, — that 
your  condition  is  hopeless.  Even  to  you,  the  sceptre 
of  his  grace  is  extended ;  even  to  you  the  voice  of  in- 
vitation is  still  addressed,  "  turn  ye,  turn  ye,  for  why 
will  ye  die  ?"  There  is  but  a  step  between  you  and 
death.  O  let  not  that  last  step  be  taken  without  God. 
Bow  before  the  footstool  of  his  throne.  Lay  your  gray 
hairs  there  in  the  dust  of  penitential  abasement.  Con- 
fess your  guilt.  Let  your  spirit  bend  to  the  offers  of 
free  mercy.  "  Believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
thou  shalt  be  saved :"  for  he  excepts  none  from  the 
gracious  assurance,  "  Him  that  cometh  unto  me,  I  will 
in  no  wise  cast  out." 

And  ye,  my  young  friends,  which  of  the  two  cha- 
racters we  have  been  bringing  before  your  view  would 
you  wish  to  be  yours,  should  you  live  to  old  age  ?  You 
can  have  but  one  answer  to  the  question.  You  desire 
to  die  in  peace  with  God,  and  in  good  hope  for  eternity. 


ECCLES.  XI.  9,  10.  XII.   1 — 7.  547 

If  such  be  your  desire,  "  remember  now  your  Creator 
in  the  days  of  your  youth."  Thus  prepare  for  an  ho- 
nourable and  happy  old  age,  and  for  a  death  of  tran- 
quillity and  hope.— But  your  reaching  old  age,  the  word 
of  God  tells  you,  and  the  events  of  every  day  tell  you, 
is  an  extreme  uncertainty.  You  have  no  covenant  with 
death.  The  years  you  anticipate  may  never  come  ;  they 
may  never  even  *'  draw  nigh."  ''  Childhood  and  youth 
are  vanity."  If,  therefore,  you  would  live  a  life  of  ge- 
nuine happiness,  however  long, — "  remember  your 
Creator  in  the  days  of  your  youth:"  and  if  you  would 
be  secure  for  a  future  world,  at  whatever  period  you 
may  be  summoned  from  this,  again  I  say,  "  remember 
your  Creator  in  the  days  of  your  youth." — I  could  call 
many  amongst  my  hearers  to  witness  to  you,  that  they 
were  strangers  to  true  enjoyment  till  they  entered  on  a 
religious  life, — a  life  of  faith  upon  the  Son  of  God.  "  O 
taste,  and  see  that  the  Lord  is  good." 


LECTURE  XXIII. 


EccLEs.  xii.  8 — 14. 

8,9  "  Vanity  of  vanities,  sailh  the  Preacher ;  all  (is)  vanity.  JncI, 
moreover,  because  the  Preacher  nvas  ivise,  he  still  taught  the  fieofile 
knuivledge  ;  yea,  he  gave  good  heed,  and  so7ig/it  out,  (and J  set  in 

10  order  many  proverbs.    The  Preacher  sought  to  find  out  accefitahle 
•words:  end  (that  which  nvas  J  ivritten   (luasj  u/iright,  (even  J 

11  words  of  truth.  The  ivords  of  the  wise  (are  J  as  goads,  and  as  nail-? 
fastened  (by  J  the  inasters  of  assemblies,  (which)  are  given  from  one 

12  shefiherd.  ./Ind  further,  by  these,  my  son,  be  admonished :  of  making 
many  books  (there  is  J  no  C7id  ;  and  much  study  fisj  a  weariness 

13  of  the  flesh.  Let  us  hear  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  maltir  ;  Pear 
God,  and  keefi  his  commandments  :  for  this  (is J  the  whole  fdutyj 

14  of  man.  For  God  shall  bring  every  work  into  Judgment,  with  every 
secret  thing,  whether  fit  be  J  good,  or  whether  (it  be  J  evil." 


'^  Vanity  of  vanities,  saith  the  preacher ;  all  (is)  va- 
nity."— With  this  general  declaration,  the  book  had 
commenced,  as  the  text  of  the  preacher's  discourse. 
This  text  he  had  illustrated  in  a  great  variety  of  lights, 
never  losing  sight  of  it,  but  frequently  repeating  it 
with  particular  application  to  the  different  branches  of 
his  subject.  He  had  commented  on  human  life,  in 
many  of  its  diversified  conditions  and  aspects,  and  had 
shown  the  vanity  of  it  in  each.  He  had  at  length,  in  the 
most  affecting  terms,  described  the  wants,  and  frailties, 
and  troubles,  of  its  concluding  period,  and  had  brought 
it,  after  its  longest  continuance,  to  its  universal  termi- 
nation :— "  Then  shall  the  dust  return  to  the  earth  as  it 
was,  and  the  spirit  shall  return  unto  God  who  gave  it." 
How  appropriate,  in  this  connection,  is  the  repetition 


ECCLES.  XII.  8 i^.  .3  19 

of  his  text !  There  is  no  season  in  which  the  vanity  of 
life  is  more  strikingly  apparent,  than  when  a  man  looks 
back  upon  it  from  its  approaching  close.  O  in  what  a 
different  light  does  it  appear  to  the  recollections  of  dy- 
ing age,  and  to  the  sanguine  anticipations  of  vigorous 
and  healthful  youth !  The  latter  looks  forward  to  long 
life,  and  his  flattering  hopes  fill  the  prospect  with  pros- 
perity and  happiness  : — he  ^'  rejoices  in  his  youth,  and 
his  heart  cheers  him  in  the  days  of  his  youth."  To  the 
former,  the  longest  life  appears,  in  the  retrospect,  as 
short,  as,  in  the  anticipations  of  his  early  days,  it  had 
seemed  long :  and,  if  he  has  continued  to  live  for  the 
present  world  only,  his  recollections  of  the  past  must 
be  not  only  "  vanity,"  but  unutterable  '*  vexation  of 
spirit."  The  pleasures  of  sin,  however  fascinating  in 
the  enjoyment,  will  then  be  found  to  "  bite  like  a  ser- 
pent and  sting  like  an  adder  :" — and  all  the  fled  joys  of 
worldly  prosperity — O  how  inexpressibly  vain  the  re- 
membrance of  them,  when  "the  silver  cord"  is  just 
giving  away, — the  dust  about  to  "return  to  the  earth," 
and  "  the  spirit  to  God  who  gave  it !" — when  the  re- 
collections of  time  are  absorbed  in  the  anticipations  of 
eternity  !  The  hand  of  death  will  lift  from  before  the 
eyes  of  the  dying  the  veil  of  delusive  fascination  that 
covered  the  emptiness  of  earthly  joys  ;  and  this  solemn 
truth,  inscribed  upon  them  all,  will  appear  in  its  dread 
reality,  and  be  felt  in  all  its  bitterness  by  the  disap- 
pointed and  foreboding  heart — "  Vanity  of  vanities, — 
all  (is)  vanity  !" 

The  royal  author  of  this  book,  we  have  had  repeated 
occasion  to  observe,  does  not  merely  draw  conclusions 
from  reasonable  principles  and  suppositions,  but  deli- 
vers the  dictates  of  observation  and  experience.  He 
had  seen  crowds  of  mortals  flocking  to  various  springs. 


550  LECTURE  xxiir. 

in  different  and  opposite  directions,  all  in  quest  of  the 
waters  of  happiness;  and  he  formed  the  resolution, 
(certainly  not  in  wisdom)  of  trying  them  all  for  himself. 
He  records  in  this  book  the  results  of  his  trial ;  to  as- 
sure mankind,  that  at  no  one  of  those  fountains  where 
happiness  is  usually  sought  is  it  really  to  be  found, 
and  to  direct  them,  for  the  attainment  and  permanent 
possession  of  it,  to  the  "  river  of  God's  pleasures." 

The  determination  to  warn  others  is,  in  the  mind  of 
a  penitent,  the  natural  suggestion  of  the  experience  he 
has  had  of  the  vanity  and  the  bitterness  of  sin.  The 
suggestion  is  especially  strong,  when  a  professed  ser- 
vant of  God  has  gone  astray.  He  has  "  given  occasion 
to  the  adversaries  of  the  Lord  to  blaspheme."  He 
knows  and  feels  this ;  and  he  is  anxious  to  counteract, 
by  subsequent  exertion  for  the  spiritual  benefit  of 
others,  the  mischief  he  may  have  done  by  his  wicked 
defection.  Solomon  had  set  a  dreadful,  and  widely  per- 
nicious example  before  his  subjects.  He  here  appears 
in  the  character  of  a  penitent,  himself  returning  to  God, 
and  seeking  to  bring  others  along  with  him ;  employing 
all  his  wisdom  for  this  purpose. 

Verse  9.  *'  And,  moreover,  because  the  Preacher 
was  wise,  he  still  taught  the  people  knowledge ;  yea, 
he  gave  good  heed,  and  sought  out,  (and)  set  in  order, 
many  proverbs." 

"  The  preacher  was  wise."  To  the  origin  of  his  un- 
rivalled wisdom  we  have  had  frequent  occasion  to  ad- 
vert. Solomon  had  been  thankful  for  this  precious  gift 
of  God.  But  for  a  time,  in  the  latter  period  of  his  life, 
he  had  most  miserably  abused  it.  The  <'  light  that  was 
in  him"  had  been  "darkness;"  his  faculties  having 
been  perverted  to  the  purposes  of  vice  and  folly.  Now, 
when  he  is  restored  to  the  right  way,  his  wisdom  is  ap- 


ECCLES.  XII.  8 14.  551 

plied  anew  to  proper  and  worthy  ends.— "When  thou 
art  restored,"— said  our  Lord  to  Peter,  "  strengthen 
thy  brethren  :"— *'  feed  my  sheep— feed  my  lambs." 

The  preacher  "  still  taught  the  people  knowledge;" 
— both  by  speech,  and  by  writing.  He  taught  them 
knowledge  of  the  most  useful  and  important  kind,— 
spiritual,  sanctifying,  saving  knowledge,~genuinc, 
heaven-derived  wisdom.  The  knowledge  which  Solo- 
mon  possessed  was  very  various.  It  embraced  a  wide 
circle  of  science  and  philosophy.  But  it  was  not  this 
that  he  taught  the  people.  It  was  the  knowledge  of  true 
religion :  and  in  this  book  we  have  a  specimen  of  his 
instructions. 

I  cannot  but  remark  here,  how  differently  the  rela- 
tive value  of  things  is  estimated  by  men  and  by  God. 
Many  a  philosopher  and  naturalist,  I  doubt  not,  has 
wished  with  all  his  heart  that,  instead  of  those  writings 
of  Solomon  preserved  in  the  Bible,  we  had  had  some 
of  his  treatises  on  the  natural  history  of  plants  and  ani- 
mals. But  Divine  wisdom  has  judged  otherwise.  It  is 
not  the  intention  of  the  Scriptures  to  teach  men  earthly 
science,  but  to  teach  them  religion ;  not  to  make  them 
philosophers,  but  to  make  them  saints.  In  consistency 
with  this  design,  those  writings  of  Solomon  which  have 
come  down  to  us  as  a  part  of  the  sacred  canon,  and 
which  we  hold  to  have  been  "  given  by  inspiration  of 
God,"  are  such  as  exhibit  the  nature  of  practical  god- 
liness, and  the  encouragements  to  its  cultivation,  and 
prescribe  numerous  and  excellent  rules  for  the  conduct 
of  life. 

"  Yea,  he  gave  good  heed  :"  that  is,  he  applied  him- 
self to  this  object.  He  investigated  truth  carefully  ;  not 
uttering  rash  and  hasty  sayings,  but  the  results  of  me- 
ditation, and  prayer,  and  divine  illumination.— He  tried 


552  LECTURE  XXllI. 

the  various  methods  of  instructing  men,  and  amongst 
the  rest  that  of  sententious  maxims,  or  proverbs.  Of 
these,  he  "sought  out  and  set  in  order  many."— The 
inspired  historian  of  his  reign  says,  "  He  spoke  three 
thousand  proverbs."*  By  a  proverb  we  usually  under- 
stand a  short  pithy  sentence,  comprising  in  few  words 
some  important  and  notorious  truth,  and  in  current  and 
general  use.  The  latter  part  of  this  definition  does  not 
necessarily  belong  to  the  idea  of  a  proverb,  in  the  sense 
in  which  the  term  is  used  by  Solomon.  There  is  no 
reason  whatever  for  believing  that  all  his  proverbs  were 
in  previous  circulation,  and  were  by  him  merely  col- 
lected. With  some  of  them  this  might  be,  and  proba- 
bly was,  the  case.  But  in  general,  they  appear  to  have 
been  the  wise  man's  observations  on  human  life,  and 
on  the  circumstances,  characters,  and  prospects  of  men, 
— "  souj^ht  out"  with  attentive  care,  committed  to 
writing  as  they  were  made,  and  then  "  set  in  order," 
or  arranged,  in  as  far  as  they  were  capable  of  arrange- 
ment, for  public  use.  Those  of  them  that  are  contained 
in  the  "  Book  of  Proverbs"  we  consider  as  having  the 
sanction  and  authority  of  the  Spirit  of  God. — And  a 
wonderful  book  it  is.  What  an  inexhaustible  treasure 
of  practical  wisdom  !  The  more  deeply  it  is  searched 
into,  the  more  we  shall  always  discover  in  it ;  and  the 
more  diligent  and  attentive  our  observation  of  human 
life,  and  of  human  nature,  both  in  ourselves  and  others, 
the  more  of  truth  and  accuracy  will  there  be  found  in 
its  various  and  valuable  sayings. 

In  teaching  the  people  wisdom,  "  the  preacher" 
(verse  10.)  "  sought  to  find  out  acceptable  words  ;  and 
(that  which  was)  written  (was)  upright,  (even)  words 
of  truth." 

*  1  Kings  iv.  52. 


ECCLES.  XII.  8 — 14.  553 

^'  Acceptable  words  -."—literally,  words  of  delight. — 
He  threw  his  instructions  into  various  forms,  to  attract 
and  to  fix  the  attention.  He  accommodated  himself  in 
this  respect,  as  far  as  was  consistent  with  preserving 
inviolate  the  interests  of  truth,  to  the  diversified  tastes 
of  men.  He  took  care  to  avoid  every  thing,  in  his 
modes  of  expression,  and  in  the  general  manner  of  his 
instructions,  that  could  tend  unnecessarily  to  irritate, 
disgust,  and  repell,  those  whom  it  was  the  desire  of  his 
heart  to  make  "  v/ise  unto  salvation."  He  sought  to 
gain  their  ear,  only  that  he  might  the  more  effectually 
reach  their  hearts.  He  used  all  the  sweetness  of  per- 
suasion, all  the  solemnity  of  affectionate  warning,  and 
all  the  faithfulness  of  kind  reproof,  to  win  sinners  from 
the  error  of  their  ways,  and  draw  them  to  God.  The 
first  nine  chapters  of  the  book  of  Proverbs,  present  us 
with  a  most  interesting  specimen  of  these  "acceptable 
words."  There  is  in  them  an  inimitable  union  of  ad- 
monitory fidelity,  and  enticing  and  subduing  kindness. 
Like  Paul,  he  "  exhorts,  and  comforts,  and  charges,  as 
a  father  doth  his  children."  The  whole  soul  of  the 
writer  is  breathed  out  in  the  earnestness  of  benevolent 
desire. 

It  is  plain,  that  his  "seeking  to  find  out  acceptable 
words"  refers  not  to  the  matter,  but  to  the  manner  of 
his  teaching.  In  the  matter,  he  could  not  accommodate 
himself  to  the  likings  of  corrupt  creatures, — creatures 
that  are  ever  disposed  to  "  say  to  the  seers.  See  not ; 
and  to  the  prophets,  Prophesy  not  unto  us  right  things  ; 
speak  unto  us  smooth  things ;  prophesy  deceits :  get 
you  out  of  the  way,  turn  aside  out  of  the  path,  cause 
the  Holy  One  of  Israel  to  cease  from  before  us."*  The 
very  reason  why  he  was  desirous  to  "find  out  acccpta- 

*  ha.  xxx.  10,  11. 

4  A 


554  LECTURE  XXIII. 

ble  words"  was,  that  he  knew  the  truth  itself  to  be  an- 
palatable.    His  object  was,  to  win  men  to  that  which 
was  fitted  to  secure  their  happiness,  but  to  which  they 
were  naturally  disinclined.    In  the  doctrines  and  pre- 
cepts delivered  by  him,  he  adhered  most  scrupulously 
to  the  counsel  of  God  : — "  and  (that  which  was)  written 
(was)  upright,  (even)  words  of  truth."    In  this  he  was 
unbending.     What  he  spoke  and  what  he  wrote  was 
"  upright,"  not  only  as  being  the  genuine  declaration 
of  his  own  mind,  but  as  according  with  Divine  intima- 
tions, and  with  the  dictates  of  that  law,  which  is  "  holy, 
and  just,  and  good,"—"  righteous  altogether  :"— and  it 
was  "true," — the  unerring  and  unadulterated  truth  of 
God.     He  could  say,  in  the  language  of  the  apostle  of 
the  Gentiles,  "  We  are  not,  as  many,  who  corrupt  the 
word  of  God :"  "We  have  renounced  the  hidden  things 
of  dishonesty,  not  walking  in  craftiness,  nor  handling 
the  word  of  God  deceitfully,  but,  by  manifestation  of 
the  truth,  commending  ourselves  to  every  man's  con- 
science, in  the  sight  of  God."* — Although  Paul,  lest 
his  success  among  the  Greeks  should  be  imputed  to 
his  artificial  eloquence,   and  not  to  the  power  of  the 
truth  and  Spirit  of  God,  avoided  the  studied  arts  of 
Grecian  rhetorick, — the  "enticing  words  of  man's  wis- 
dom ;"  yet,  doubtless  he  also,  like  Solomon,  "  sought 
to  find  out  acceptable  words," — all  the  modes  of  earnest 
and  faithful,  but  insinuating  and  winning,  persuasion: 
He  who  "  warned  sinners,  night  and  day,  with  tears," 
—he  who  "prayed  and  besought  men,  in  Christ's  stead, 
to  be  reconciled  unto  God,"  would,  without  question, 
shun  every  thing,  in  speech  and  in  manner,  that  could 
be  needlessly  irritating  and  repulsive. 

The  nature  and  design  of  the  preacher's  instructions 

*  2  Cor.  ii.  17,  iv.  2. 


ECCLES.  XII.  8 14.  .155 

are  stated  in  verse  11.  "The  words  of  the  wise  (are) 
as  goads,  and  as  nails  fastened  (by)  the  masters  of  as- 
semblies, (which  are)  given  from  one  shepherd." 

They  are  "  as  goads."  The  meaning  of  this  is  suffi- 
ciently obvious.  The  goad  was  a  staff  with  a  sharp 
point  of  iron,  used  for  stimulating  oxen,  and  quicken- 
ing their  pace,  when  engaged  in  drawing  the  plough, 
or  in  other  labour.  Thus  "  the  words  of  the  wise"  arc 
intended  to  be  excitements  to  the  service  of  God ;  to 
stir  up  to  increased  activity  such  as  arc  already  em- 
ployed in  it,  and  to  rouse  others  from  their  thoughtless 
lethargy,  to  ^^  prick  them  in  their  hearts,"  to  excite 
them  to  inquiry  respecting  their  best  interests,  and  to 
animate  them  to  press,  through  all  opposition  and  diffi- 
culty, into  the  ways  of  God. 

The  latter  part  of  the  verse  is  not  so  plain ;  and  va- 
rious have  been  the  proposed  renderings  and  explana- 
tions of  it.* — It  may  be  observed,  that  the  word  ^'  fas- 
tened" does  not,  in  the  original  language,  agree  in  gen- 
der with  "  nails,"  but  with  *'  the  words  of  the  wise  ;"t 
and  the  whole  verse  may  perhaps  be  thus  rendered  : — 
"  The  words  of  the  wise,  (which  arc)  as  goads,  and  fas- 
tened deeply  as  nails  (by)  the  masters  of  assemblies, 
are  given  from  one  shepherd." 

"  The  words  of  the  wise"  are  the  words  of  Solomon 
himself,  and  of  those  other  ^'  holy  men  of  God,"  who 
*'  spoke  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Spirit."— We 
have  seen  why  they  are  compared  to  goads.  They  are 
further  said  to  be  "  fastened  deeply  as  nails  (by)  the 
masters  of  assemblies."  They  are  explained  to  the  un- 
derstanding, applied  to  the  conscience,  driven  home  to 
the  heart,  and  fixed  in  the  memories,  of  their  hearers, 

•  See  Dathius,  Van  der  Palm,  and  Hodgson,  on  the  verse;  aiid.Parkhurst's 
IjCxicon,  on  the  word  iPC.  t  Lowth. 


536  LECTURE  XXIll. 

by  the  public  teachers  of  the  people. —  There  may,  per- 
haps, be  a  special  reference  to  such  short  comprehen- 
sive  sayings  as  the  Proverbs,  (verse  9.)  which  are  fitted 
to  make  a  deep  and  abiding  impression  on  the  mind, 
and  to  be  easily  kept  in  remembrance.  Like  nails  they 
are  at  once  sharp,  and  take  a  firm  hold. 

And  these  words  of  the  wise  "are  given  from  one 
shepherd."  Can  there  be  any  hesitation  about  the  mean- 
ing of  this  ?  The  *'  Shepherd  of  Israel,  who  guided  Jo- 
seph like  a  flock,— he  that  dwelt  between  the  cheru- 
bim," — he  is  the  original  giver  of  all  the  words  of  in- 
spired wisdom.  The  subordinate  shepherds,  the  di- 
vinely commissioned  teachers  and  guides,  were  many  ; 
but  they  received  all  their  communications  from  him, 
s — The  designation  is  most  frequently  applied  in  the 
Sciptures  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Divine  Mes- 
siah.* And  as  He,  the  second  Person  of  the  blessed 
Trinity,  is  represented  as  having  from  the  beginning 
had  the  immediate  conduct  of  the  whole  scheme  of  re- 
demption, it  is  likely  that  we  should  understand  the 
words  before  us  of  Him. — The  prophets,  who  prophe- 
sied of  the  grace  that  was  to  come  unto  the  church  in 
the  fulness  of  time,  "  inquired  and  investigated  dili- 
gently,—searching  what  or  what  manner  of  time  the 
SPIRIT  OF  Christ  which  was  in  them  did  signify, 
■when  it  testified  beforehand  the  suflferings  of  Christ, 
and  the  glory  that  should  follow.  Unto  whom,"  says 
the  apostle  Peter,  "  it  was  revealed,  that  not  unto  them- 
selves, but  unto  us,  they  did  minister  the  things  which 
are  now  reported  unto  you  with  the  Holy  Ghost 
sent  down  from  heaven."  Thus  the  Spirit  that  spoke 
by  the  prophets  and  by  the  apostles  is  the  same.    The 

*  Compare  Psal.  xxiii.  1.  Isa.  xl.  10,  11.  Ezek.  xxxiv.  23.  John  x,  11. 
Heb.  xiii.  20.   1  Pet.  v.  4. 


ECCLES.  XII.  8 — 14.  .557 

words  of  the  wise  are  "  the  true  sayings  of  God ;"  to 
be  received  by  us  as  such,  with  humble  reverence, 
lively  gratitude,  constant  remembrance,  and  prompt 
and  universal  obedience. 

Verse  12.  "  And  further,  by  these,  my  son,  be  ad- 
monished: of  making  many  books  (there  is)  no  end, 
and  much  study  is  a  weariness  of  the  flesh." 

"  My  son  :" — This  is  the  same  style  of  address  with 
that  used  by  Solomon  in  the  book  of  Proverbs.  He  is 
not,  I  think,  to  be  understood  as  directing  his  discourse 
expressly  and  exclusively  to  Rehohoam,  but  in  general 
to  his  reader,  whosoever  he  might  be.  It  is  the  address 
of  an  old  man,  and  the  expression  of  an  affectionate 
heart.  Solomon  uses  it  in  the  same  spirit  with  the 
venerable  apostle  John,  when  he  writes  to  the  disciples 
of  Christ,  in  his  advanced  age,  as  his  little  children  :  — 
"  My  little  children,  these  things  write  I  unto  you,  that 
ye  sin  not." 

<'  By  these,  my  son,  be  admonished."  This  may 
mean,  either,  by  "  the  words  of  the  wise"  in  general, 
mentioned  in  the  eleventh  verse,  or  more  particularly, 
by  the  words  of  wisdom  contained  in  the  book  which 
he  was  just  bringing  to  a  close. 

In  the  latter  view  of  the  verse  it  may  be  thus  para 
phrased:— "Receive,  my  son,  the  admonitions  con- 
veyed in  this  brief  review  of  the  vanity  of  life.  '  Of 
making  many  books  (there  is)  no  end,  and  much  study 
(is)  a  weariness  to  the  flesh.'  A  vast  deal  more  might 
be  written,  I  might  multiply  treatises.  The  subject,  in 
connection  with  others  that  are  related  to  it,  is  inex- 
haustible. But  "  of  making  many  books  (there  is)  no 
end.'  I  need  not  set  myself  to  the  endless  task.  By 
these,  my  son,  be  admonished.  I  have  said  enough  for 
your  conviction  and  warning.  Receive  the  instruction, 


558  LECTURE  XXIII. 

and  be  wise.  I  might  write,  till  the  study  of  what  was 
written  would  be  a  weariness  to  the  flesh.  But  there  is 
no  need.  Let  what  I  have  written  sufiice." 

In  the  former  view,  thus  :— "  My  son,  I  have  writ- 
ten much,  and  I  have  studied  more.  Many  a  time  have 
I  worn  out  my  bodily  strength,  in  my  researches  into 
the  works  of  nature  and  of  art,— into  all  the  subjects 
that  occupy  human  investigation.  Of  such  pursuits  and 
labour  I  find  there  is  no  end :  and  however  agreeable, 
and  however  profitable,  they  may  in  some  respects  be, 
and  however  worthy  of  a  share  of  thy  attention, — yet 
let  me,  above  all  things,  direct  you  to  *  the  words  of 
the  wise,'— to  the  writings  of  Moses  and  the  prophets, 
to  the  *  lively  oracles'  given,  through  them,  by  the  one 
Shepherd,  the  God  of  Israel.  By  these,  my  son,  be  ad- 
monished :— make  these  the  men  of  thy  counsel,— thine 
instructors,  thy  guides,  thy  reprovers,  thy  comforters. 
From  other  works  you  may  receive  entertainment,  and, 
by  hard  and  wearisome  study,  extensive,  and,  it  may 
be,  useful  information.  But  these  alone  can  make  you 
truly  wise,  wise  from  above,  wise  unto  salvation  :— 
'  The  law  of  the  Lord  is  perfect,  converting  the  soul : 
the  testimony  of  Lord  is  sure,  making  wise  the  simple  :* 
the  statutes  of  the  Lord  are  right,  rejoicing  the  heart : 
the  commandment  of  Lord  is  pure,  enlightening  the 
eyes :  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  clean,  enduring  for  ever  : 
the  judgments  of  the  Lord  are  true  and  righteous  alto- 
gether. More  to  be  desired  are  they  than  gold,  yea, 
than  much  fine  gold ;  sweeter  also  than  honey,  and  the 
honey-comb.'  "* 

He  then  proceeds  to  sum  up  the  whole  in  a  single 
weighty  sentence,  one  of  "  the  words  of  the  wise  :" — 
Verses  14,  15.    "  Let  us  hear  the  conclusion  of  the 
*Psal.xix.7— 10. 


ECCLES.  XII.  8 — 14.  359 

whole  matter;  Fear  God,  and  keep  his  commandments : 
for  this  is  the  whole  (duty)  of  man  For  God  will  bring 
every  work  into  judgment,  with  every  secret  thing, 
whether  (it  be)  good,  or  whether  (it  be)  evil," 

"  Fear  God,  and  keep  his  commandments."— These 
words  express  a  principle,   along  with  the   conduct 
which  natively  flows  from  it,  and  is  the  evidence  of  its 
existence.     The  fear  of  God  comprehends  in  it  all  the 
gracious  aflfections  of  the  soul  towards  Him,  which  are 
produced  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  ought  to  be  cherished 
under  his  supplicated  influence ;— holy  awe  of  his  infi- 
nite majesty,  his  spotless  purity,  and  inflexible  justice, 
— fervent  gratitude  for  his  goodness  and  mercy,— con- 
fidence in  his  wisdom,  power,  and  faithfulness,— im- 
plicit submission  to  his  sovereign  will, — and  supreme 
delight  in  his  entire  character.— The  fear  of  God  is 
founded  in  the  knowledge  of  what  he  has  revealed  him- 
self to  be ;  and  it  is  not  only  inseparable  from  love,  but 
invariably  proportioned  to  it  in  degree.  There  may  be 
terror  where  there  is  no  love  ;  nay,  where  there  is  deep- 
felt  and  inveterate  hatred.  But  this  is  as  different  from 
the  gracious  fear  of  God,  as  the  trembling  of  a  slave 
Avho  detests  his  master,   but  feels  himself  to  be  in  his 
power  and  at  his  mercy,  is  different  from  the  filial  re- 
verence of  an  aflfectionate  and  ingenuous  child,  who,  in 
proportion  as  he  loves  his  father,  dreads  incurring  his 
displeasure,  and  is  made  unhappy  by  a  single  word  or 
look  of  disapprobation.  It  is  the  thought  of  his  parent's 
anger,  not  the  pain  of  correction,  that  grieves  the  spirit 
of  such  a  child  ;  and  the  agony  of  that  thought  is  ex- 
actly according  to  the  intensity  and  tenderness  of  his 
affection. 

The  fear  of  God,  accordingly,  is,  in  Scripture,  gene- 
rally put  for  the  whole  of  true  religion  in  the  heart,  and 


560  lECTtRE  xxrir. 

is,  not  unfrequcntly,  inclusive  also  of  its  practical  re-' 
suits  in  the  life.  Those  who  ^'  fear  God,"  and  those 
who  have  '•  no  fear  of  God  before  their  eyes,"  are  the 
two  great  descriptions  of  mankind.  Wherever  the  fear 
of  God  exists  in  the  heart,  there  will  follow  the  keep- 
ing of  his  commandments  in  the  life ;  and  it  is  from  the 
latter  that  we  are  to  judge  of  the  former.  God's  name 
is  not  feared,  when  his  commandments  are  not  obeyed. 
Practice  is  the  test  of  principle,— the  only  sure  criterion 
of  all  profession.  It  is  the  two  together  that  constitute 
true  religion.  The  heart  must  be  "  right  with  God,'* 
and  the  life  must  prove  its  rectitude.  "The  fear  of  the 
Lord,  that  (is)  wisdom ;  and  to  depart  from  evil  (is) 
understanding  :" — "  The  fear  of  the  Lord,  (is)  the  be> 
ginning  of  wisdom  ;  a  good  understanding  have  all  they 
that  do  (his  commandments)."* 

"This  (is)  the  whole  (duty)  of  man."— The  word 
duty  is  in  this  translation  supplementary.  The  expres- 
sion in  the  original, — -"  This  is  the  whole  of  man," — • 
has  not,  that  1  am  aware  of,  any  parallels  by  which  it 
might  be  illustrated.  The  supplement  of  the  word 
(duty)  destroys  its  evidently  designed  comprehensive- 
ness. It  is  not  only  the  whole  duty,  but  the  whole  ho- 
nour, and  interest,  and  happiness  of  man.  And  as  hap- 
p'mess  is  the  chief  subject  of  the  treatise,  it  might  per- 
haps be  a  more  appropriate  supplement  than  the  other. 
It  is  true  indeed,  inferentially,— invariably  true,  that  the 
duty  of  man  is  his  happiness  ;  that  the  latter  is  insepa- 
rably associated  with  the  former.  But  may  not  this  be 
the  very  sentiment  which  Solomon  intended  to  convey? 
The  duty  is  expressed,  and  the  happiness  inferred.  He 
sums  up  duty,  in  its  principle  and  practice,  and  de- 
clares the  fulfilment  of  this  summary  to  constitute  the 

*  Job.  xxviii,  28.  Psal.cxi.  10. 


ECCLES.  XII.  8 — 14.  561 

whole  happiness  of  man.  That  which  men,  in  ten  thou- 
sand ways,  seek  in  vain, — all  their  pursuits  terminating 
in  "  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit,"— this  is  the  short 
and  infallible  way  to  find.— True  religion,— the  fear 
and  service  of  God,— is  the  honour  and  the  happiness 
of  man  in  the  present  life ;  and  what  is  infinitely  more, 
it  embraces  his  entire  existence  as  an  immortal  being, 
and  secures  his  honour  and  happiness  for  the  life  to 
come.  The  honour  and  the  happiness  of  such  a  being 
can  never  be  truly  estimated  without  viewing  him  in 
his  relation  to  eternity.  A  life  of  true  religion  is  the 
only  life  that  yields  present  enjoyment  worthy  of  his 
spiritual  and  deathless  nature  ;  and  it  is  the  only  life 
that  can  ever  end  well.  "Fear  God,  and  keep  his 
commandments;  for  this  is  all  that  concerneth 
MAN," — is  a  sentiment  that  will  be  seen  and  felt  in  all 
its  truth  and  importance,  in  that  solemn  day,  that  shall 
wind  up  and  close  the  eventful  history  of  our  world, 
and  fix,  by  an  irrepealable  sentence,  the  eternal  destiny 
of  every  child  of  Adam  : — 

Verse  14.  "  For  God  shall  bring  every  work  into 
judgment,  with  every  secret  thing,  whether  (it  be)  good, 
or  whether  (it  be)  evil." 

The  certainty  of  this  event  is  ascertained  by  all  the 
evidence  that  establishes  the  Divine  authority  of  the 
Bible ; — it  is  confirmed  by  the  secret  intimations  of 
conscience  ;  and  by  all  the  present  irregularities,  other- 
wise so  unaccountable,  in  the  Divine  administration 
towards  the  children  of  men. — The  solemnity  of  the 
event  is  unspeakable  : — the  assembling  of  all  the  mil- 
lions of  mankind  that  shall  ever  have  existed,  from  the 
beginning  to  the  close  of  time,  before  the  tribunal  of 
the  universal  Sovereign  !— when  "  the  heavens,  being 
on  fire,  shall  be  dissolved,  and  the  elements  shall  melt 
4B 


56S  1.ECTURE  xxiii. 

with  fervent  heat ;  the  earth  also,  and  all  the  works  that 
are  therein,  shall  be  burnt  up."* — ''  I  saw  a  great  white 
tlirone,  and  him  that  sat  on  it,  from  whose  face  the  earth 
and  the  heavens  fled  away,  and  there  was  found  no 
place  for  them.  And  I  saw  the  dead,  small  and  great, 
stand  before  God.  And  the  books  were  opened  ;  and 
another  book  was  opened,  which  is  (the  book)  of  hfe : 
and  the  dead  were  judged  out  of  those  things  which 
were  written  in  the  books,  according  to  their  works."! 

"  Every  work"  and  *'  every  secret  thing"  shall  then 
be  "  brought  into  judgment :" — all  the  doings  of  men, 
however  private,  however  anxiously  concealed  from 
their  fellow-creatures,  performed  in  the  dead  of  night, 
and  far  from  any  human  eye  ; — and  all  their  thoughts, 
and  desires,  and  purposes,  though  studiously  kept 
within  their  bosoms,  and  never  whispered  to  human 
ear.  Nothing  shall  escape  detection  and  disclosure. 
The  eye  of  omniscience  having  witnessed  all,  and  the 
Mind  that  embraces  present,  past,  and  future,  with 
equal  minuteness  and  equal  certainty,  having  retained 
all,  the  sentence  pronounced  on  each  individual  will  be 
founded  in  a  complete  and  unerring  knowledge  of  all 
that  he  has  been,  and  of  all  that  he  has  done.  This  is 
probably  all  that  is  meant  by  God's  ^'  bringing  every 
work  into  judgment."  There  will  be  such  a  develope- 
ment  of  character,  as  shall  justify  the  Supreme  Judge, 
and  the  judgments  he  pronounces  and  executes,  in  the 
consciences  of  the  condemned,  and  certify  his  unim- 
peachable righteousness  to  angels  and  men ;  but  there 
seems  no  necessity  for  supposing  a  public  discovery  of 
every  deed,  and  word,  and  thought,  of  every  individual 
of  the  myriads  before  the  judgment-seat. 

The  Scriptures  assure  us,  that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 

♦  2  Pet.  iii.  10.  f  Kev.  xx.ll,  12. 


eccl.es.  XII.  8 — 14.  563 

is  to  occupy,  on  that  day,  the  throne  of  universal  judg- 
ment : — "  the  throne  of  his  glory  :"*  and  the  language 
of  the  prophet,  in  prospect  of  the  first  coming  of  the 
Son  of  God,  may,  in  all  its  emphasis,  be  applied  to  his 
second  :— "  But  who  may  abide  the  day  of  his  coming  ? 
and  who  shall  stand  when  He  appeareth?" — What  an- 
swer shall  we  give  to  this  solemn  enquiry  ?  Shall  none 
stand  ?— Yes  :  there  shall  "  stand  before  the  throne  and 
before  the  Lamb  a  multitude  which  no  one  can  num- 
ber, out  of  all  kindreds,  and  peoples,  and  nations,  and 
tongues,  clothed  with  white  robes,  and  palms  in  their 
hands,  and  shall  sing  with  a  loud  voice.  Salvation  unto 
our  God  who  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the 
Lamb  !"  And  this  multitude  shall  consist  of  those  who 
had  sustained  while  on  earth  a  certain  character.  That 
character  is  now  before  us.  They  shall  all  be  such  as 
"  feared  God  and  kept  his  commandments.'*  "The 
ungodly  shall  not  stand  in  the  judgment,  nor  sinners  in 
the  congregation  of  the  righteous:  for  the  Lord  knoweth 
the  way  of  the  righteous,  but  the  way  of  the  ungodly 
shall  perish." 

It  is  necessary,  however,  to  remind-you,  that  the  true 
fear  of  God,  and  the  obedience  thence  resulting,  must 
be  founded  in  the  faith  of  that  testimony  concerning 
himself  which  he  has  given  us  in  his  word.  Nothing 
can  be  more  manifest,  than  that,  if  God  has  revealed 
himself  to  sinners,  and  calls  upon  them  to  fear  him,  he 
means  that  he  should  be  feared  in  the  character  in  which 
lie  is  revealed.  The  man  who,  with  that  revelation  in 
his  hand,  professes  to  fear  and  to  obey  God  on  other 
terms  than  those  which  it  prescribes,  instead  of  honour- 
ing, insults  him,— instead  of  offering  an  acceptable  ser- 

♦  See  John  v.  22— 2r.  Acts  xvii.  30,  31.  x.  42.  Malt.  xxv.  31-46, 
2  Cor.  V.  10,  &c. 


364  LECTURE  XXIII. 

vice,  presents  what  he  must  reject  with  indignation. 
When  God  makes  himself  known  to  sinners,  he  makes 
himself  known  in  a  character  corresponding  to  their 
condition.  It  is  to  men  as  sinners  that  the  Bible  is  ad- 
dressed. If  they  do  not  read  it  in  the  remembrance  of 
this,  they  cannot  understand  it ;  for  the  meaning  and 
appropriateness  of  any  communication  must  depend  on 
the  character,  and  circumstances,  and  consequent  needs, 
of  those  to  whom  it  is  made.  As  sinners,  men  need 
salvation.  In  the  Bible,  accordingly,  God  appears  as 
'^the  God  of  salvation  ;"  and  to  "  show  unto  men  the 
way  of  salvation,"  is  its  principal, — nay,  I  might  almost 
say,  taking  salvation  in  the  most  enlarged  sense  of  the 
term,  its  exclusive  design. — It  follows,  that  no  sinner 
can  be  considered  as  truly  fearing  God,  till  he  has  re- 
cognized him  in  this  relation,  and  distinctly  and  fully 
acquiesced  in  that  way  of  salvation,  or  those  proposals 
of  mercy,  which  he  has  been  graciously  pleased  to  re, 
veal.  The  first  expression  of  the  genuine  fear  of  God, 
on  the  part  of  a  fallen  creature,  is  the  prayer  of  the  pub- 
lican, uttered  in  the  publican's  frame  of  spirit,  "  God, 
be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner!" — A  self-righteous  sinner 
is  the  strangest,  the  most  anomalous,  and  self-contra- 
dictory of  all  characters.  That  sinner  shows  that  he  has 
no  right  conceptions,  no  becoming  impressions,  of  the 
purity  and  justice  of  his  offended  Maker, — that  there  is 
*'  no  true  fear  of  God  before  his  eyes," — who  presumes 
to  think  that  he  can  justify  himself  in  his  presence. 
Before  man  had  sinned,  it  was  the  law,  or  authoritative 
appointment,  of  God,  that  he  should  hold  his  life  of 
original  blessedness  on  the  condition  of  his  continued 
innocence.  But  the  moment  man  fell,  and  became  a 
sinner,  his  case  was  necessarily  altered ;  and  it  is  now 
equally  the  law,  or  authoritative  appointment,  of  God, 


ECCLES.  XII.  8 — 14.  505 

that,  as  a  sinner,  he  must  owe  his  forgiveness  and  hap- 
piness to  sovereign  grace  and  mercy,  through  faith  in 
a  Mediator.  The  reception  given  to  the  offers  of  a  free 
salvation  is  now  the  test  of  loyalty  or  rebellion.  That 
man  retains  in  his  bosom  the  spirit  of  a  rebel,  who  per- 
sists in  attempting  what  God  has  declared  impossible, 
and  in  flattering  himself  he  can  want  what  God  has  pro- 
nounced indispensable  ;  who  flies  in  the  face  of  his  most 
explicit  assurances,  that  "  by  the  works  of  the  law  no 
flesh  living  shall  be  justified,"  and  still  "  goes  about  to 
establish  his  own  righteousness  ;  who  puts  in  his  claim 
for  right,  when  he  should  present  his  petition  for  favour; 
who,  openly  or  secretly,  in  words  or  in  heart,  inserts 
his  own  name  into  that  plea,  from  which  the  most  High 
has  excluded  every  name  in  or  under  heaven,  but  the 
name  of  his  Son  ;  who  professes  to  seek  the  favour  of 
God  by  "  keeping  his  commandments,"— and  forgets 
that  "this  is  his  commandment," — and,  to  a  sinful 
creature,  necessarily  the  first  of  all  his  commandments, 
— "  that  he  believe  on  the  name  of  his  Son  Jesus  Christ." 
No  true  obedience,  besides,  can  be  rendered  to  the 
Divine  commandments,  so  long  as  the  heart  continues 
estranged  from  God,  and  in  its  natural  state  of  enmity 
against  him  :— and  this  enmity  is  slain  only  by  the  cross. 
The  fear  and  the  love  of  God  take  possession  of  the 
sinner's  heart  together,  when,  feeling  his  sinfulness  and 
condemnation,  he  flees  thither  for  safety,  beholds  there 
^'  mercy  and  truth  meeting  together,  righteousness  and 
peace  embracing  each  other,"  justice  and  grace  revealed 
with  equal  honour  in  the  sufferings  of  the  appointed 
Surety,  "  good-will  to  men"  in  union  with  "  glory  to 
God."  The  believing  contemplation  of  these  Divine 
harmonies  at  once  penetrates  witli  awe  and  melts  with 
love  :— -and  the  sinner,  relieved  from  slavish  terror,  and 


566  LECTtTRE  xiiir. 

renewed  in  the  spirit  of  his  mind,  "  runs  in  the  way  of 
God's  commandments."  Fear  restrains  him  from  evil, 
and  love  incites  him  to  good. 

Allow  me,  then,  in  improving  our  exposition  of  these 
verses,  in  the  first  place,  most  earnestly  to  entreat  you 
all,  to  give  attention  to  "  the  words  of  the  wise." — The 
holy  Scriptures  are  the  records  of  Divine  wisdom.  They 
are  very  various  ;  and  they  are  all  profitable.  No  know- 
ledge, no  wisdom,  can  be  compared  with  that  which 
they  reveal.  The  treasures  of  the  mind  of  Deity  are 
laid  open  here.  Things  are  made  known  which  "eye 
had  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  and  which  it  had  not  en- 
tered into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive."  Here,  and 
here  alone,  are  "the  words  of  eternal  life." — It  is  not 
to  the  philosophers  of  this  world  that  your  attention  is 
now  invited.  Their  researches  in  the  various  sciences, 
the  sciences  both  of  matter  and  of  mind,  we  wish  not 
to  undervalue.  In  their  subjects,  these  sciences  are 
rational  and  dignified;  in  their  discoveries,  speculations, 
and  reasonings,  they  are  often  interesting,  elegant  and 
instructive  ;  and  in  many  of  their  results,  in  their  ap- 
plication to  the  purposes  of  human  life,  they  are,  in  no 
small  degree,  useful.  But,  in  religion  and  morals,  the 
only  safe  instructors  are  those  who  received  their?lessons 
from  God  himself.  All  others  are  "  blind  guides,"  who 
"  professing  themselves  to  be  wise,  have  become  fools." 
_"  Where  is  the  wise  ?  where  is  the  scribe  ?  where  is 
the  disputer  of  this  world  ?  Hath  not  God  made  foolish 
the  wisdom  of  this  World  ?  For  after  that,  in  the  wis- 
dom of  God,  the  world,  by  wisdom,  knew  not  God,  it 
pleased  God,  by  the  foolishness  of  preaching,  to  save 
them  that  believe.  For  the  Jews  require  a  sign,  and  the 
Greeks  seek  after  wisdom  ;  but  we,"  (says  one  of  those 
whom  God  commissioned  to  "  destroy  the  wisdom  of 


ECCLES.  XII.  8 — 14.  567 

the  wise,  and  to  bring  to  nothing  the  understanding  of 
the  prudent,")— "we  preach  Christ  crucified,  to  the 
Jews  a  stumbling-block,  and  to  the  Greeks  foolishness, 
but  unto  them  that  are  called,  both  Jews  and  Greeks, 
Christ  the  power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God.  Be- 
cause the  foolishness  of  God  is  wiser  than  men,  and  the 
weakness  of  God  is  stronger  than  men."*  The  gospel 
of  Christ  is,  with  peculiar  emphasis,  denominated  "  the 
wisdom  of  God,"  being  the  most  astonishing,  and  to 
us  the  most  deeply  interesting,  of  all  the  exertions  and 
discoveries  of  Divine  intelligence.  The  mechanical 
skill,  displayed  in  the  works  of  nature,  marvellous  as  it 
is,  must  yield  in  excellence  to  what  may  be  termed  the 
moral  wisdom  of  the  scheme  of  grace.  The  goodness 
visible  in  creation  is  transcendently  surpassed  by  the 
mercy  manifested  in  redemption.  It  is  the  knowledge 
of  this  discovery  of  God,  that  constitutes  the  most 
valuable  wisdom.  An  acquaintance  with  all  his  other 
works,  throughout  the  entire  range  of  nature,  suppos- 
ing it  attainable,  could  not  countervail  the  ignorance  of 
this.  It  would  raise  its  possessor,  indeed,  to  an  eleva- 
tion incomparably  higher  amongst  his  fellow- men  ;  it 
would  place  his  name  first  in  the  lists  of  scientific 
eminence,  and  transmit  it  for  the  wonder  and  applause 
of  future  generations.  But  it  would  not  procure  him, 
what  the  wisest  as  well  as  the  weakest  requires,  the 
pardoning  mercy  of  God,  and  eternal  life.  There  is 
only  one  description  of  knowledge  with  which  these 
are  associated,  and  the  weakest  possessor  of  that  know- 
ledge is  wiser  than  the  M'isest  who  is  without  it.  Des- 
pised by  men,  it  is  highly  esteemed  with  God.  Ex- 
cluded from  human  philosophy,  and  the  possession  of 
it,  so  far  from  being  reckoned  amongst  the  requisites 

*  ICor.  i.20— 25. 


068  LECTURE  XXIII. 

of  a  man  of  science,  exposing  him  to  derision,  rather 
than  procuring  him  honour  ;  it  is  the  philosophy  of  the 
Bible  ;  it  is  the  philosophy  of  heaven  : — "  These  things 
the  angels  desire  to  look  into." — O  despise  not,  then, 
those  "  words  of  the  wise,"  which  declare  the  *'  faith- 
ful saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ 
Jesus  came  into  the  world,  to  save  sinners."  Despise 
not  the  words  of  this  heavenly  teacher  himself,  who  is 
the  Wisdom  and  the  Word  of  God,  on  whom  the  Spirit 
was  poured  without  measure,  and  who  "  spoke  as  never 
man  spoke."  Let  his  sayings  sink  deep  into  your  ears. 
Receive  them  with  meekness,  and  retain  them  with  faith 
and  love.  Keep  them,  for  they  are  your  life.-—"  As 
Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness,  even  so 
must  the  Son  of  man  be  lifted  up  ;  that  whosoever  be- 
lieveth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  eternal  life. 
For  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  be- 
gotten Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not 
perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.  For  God  sent  not  his 
Son  into  the  world  to  condemn  the  world  ;  but  that  the 
world  through  him  might  be  saved.  He  that  believeth 
on  him  is  not  condemned :  but  he  that  believeth  not 
is  condemned  already,  because  he  hath  not  believed 
in  the  name  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God.  And 
this  is  the  condemnation,  that  light  is  come  into  the 
world,  and  men  loved  darkness  rather  than  light,  be- 
cause their  deeds  were  evil."  "  All  things  are  delivered 
unto  me  of  my  Father  :  and  no  man  knov/eth  the  Son, 
but  the  Father ;  neither  knoweth  any  man  the  Father, 
save  the  Son,  and  (he)  to  whomsoever  the  Son  will  re- 
veal (him.)  Come  unto  me,  all  (ye)  that  labour  and 
are  heavy  laden,  and  1  will  give  you  rest.  Take  my 
yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me ;  for  I  am  meek  and 
lowly  in  heart :  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls. 


ECCLES.  XII.  8 14.  069 

For  my  yoke  (is)  easy  and  my  burden  is  light."  "  My 
sheep  hear  my  voice,  and  I  know  them,  and  they  follow 
me :  and  I  give  unto  them  eternal  life  ;  and  they  shall 
never  perish,  neither  shall  any  pluck  them  out  of  my 
hand.  My  Father,  who  gave  (them)  me,  is  greater  than 
all ;  and  none  is  able  to  pluck  (them)  out  of  my  Fa- 
ther's hand.  I  and  (my)  Father  are  one."  "  I  am  the 
resurrection,  and  the  life  :  he  that  believeth  in  me, 
though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live :  and  whosoever 
liveth,  and  believeth  in  me,  shall  never  die."— O  that 
these  words  of  "  a  greater  than  Solomon,"  may  be 
esteemed  by  you,  as  they  truly  are,  words  of  wisdom, 
and  not  contemned  as  foolishness  !  May  they  be  *'  as 
goads,"  "  pricking  you  in  your  hearts,"  piercing  your 
consciences  with  a  sense  of  sin  and  danger,  and  urg- 
ing you  forward  to  the  only  Saviour  !  May  the  great 
"  master  of  assemblies"  himself  "  fasten  them  as  nails," 
— giving  them  a  deep,  an  abiding,  a  salutary  and  saving 
impression  in  every  heart! 

Secondly.  Ye  who  have  "  tasted  that  the  Lord  is 
gracious,"  who  have  felt  the  value  of  the  word  of  God, 
and  have  learned  to  "  count  all  things  but  loss  for  the 
excellency  of  the  knowledge"  which  it  contains, — who 
have  known  in  your  experience  that  to  "  fear  God  and 
keep  his  commandments"  is  the  whole  happiness  of 
man,  and  are  satisfied  tiiat  it  is  his  highest  honour, — 
be  encouraged  to  persevere  unto  the  end.— Prize  more 
and  more  highly  "  the  words  of  the  wise."  '^  Search  the 
Scriptures."  Believe  the  truths  ;  rejoice  in  the  promi- 
ses; practise  the  precepts,  of  this  blessed  book.  "Be 
ye  steadfast,  unmoveable,  always  abounding  in  the  work 
of  the  Lord."  Keep  in  your  view  the  solemnities  oi  a 
coming  judgment :  and  whilst  your  hopes  of  acceptance 
at  that  day  are  founded  exclusively  in  "  grace  reigning 
1  C 


670  LECTURE  XXIir. 

.through  righteousness  unto  eternal  life,  by  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord,"  forget  not  the  obligations  under  which  you 
lie  to  '^  glorify  God  in  your  bodies  and  in  your  spirits, 
which  are  his."  Remember,  the  Master  whom  you  serve 
has  said  to  you,  respecting  whatever  talents  he  has  in- 
trusted to  your  management,  *'  Occupy  till  I  come." 
Use  them  not,  then,  for  sinful  or  selfish  ends  ;  wrap 
them  not  in  a  napkin  ;  but  employ  them  with  diligence 
for  the  honour  of  his  name  and  the  interest  of  his  cause; 
that  when  he  comes  to  take  account  of  your  steward- 
ship, he  may  own  you  with  his  approving  sentence, 
"Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant ;— enter  thou 
into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 

Let  not  the  vanities  of  the  world  seduce  you  from 
the  possession  and  the  pursuit  of  better  and  more  en- 
during joys.  Let  the  lesson  that  "  all  is  vanity,"  be 
imprinted  on  your  minds,  as  a  truth  affirmed  by  God, 
and  attested  by  the  unvarying  experience  of  men.  Let 
nothing  tempt  you  to  repeat  Solomon's  unwise  experi- 
ment ;  but  rest  satisfied,  and  act  upon  the  assurance, 
that  the  result  would  be  to  you  the  same  as  it  was  to 
him.  "  Cleave  to  the  Lord  with  purpose  of  heart." 
Let  HIM  be,  to  the  end,  ^'  the  portion  of  your  inheri- 
tance and  of  your  cup."  Still  "  fear  God,  and  keep  his 
commandments  ;"  and  you  will  increasingly  experience 
while  here,  and  fully  know  hereafter,  that  "  this  is  the 
whole"  happiness,  and  honour,  and  interest,  "of  man," 
for  time,  and  for  eternity. 

Lastly,  It  ought  to  be  our  desire  and  aim  who  pro- 
fess to  be  servants  of  God  in  the  ministry  of  the  word, 
to  make  that  word  the  exclusive  standard  of  all  our  in- 
structions, and  to  present  and  recommend  these  instruc- 
tions with  the  same  end  iu  view,  as  to  our  hearers,  with 
ihat  for  whicli-they  are  given  to  us  of  God.— It  is  our 


ECCLES.  XII.  8 14.  571 

duty  to  '*  speak  the  truth,  tlic  whole  truth,  and  nothing 
but  the  truth,"  with  a  single  eye  to  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  best  interests  of  men. — "  To  the  law,  and  to  the 
testimony  :  if  we  speak  not  according  to  this  word,  there 
is  no  light  in  us  ;"— and  if  we  declare  the  truths  of  this 
word  for  selfish  and  unworthy  purposes,  the  blessed 
Author  of  it  may  gi\e  these  truths  efficacy  for  the  sal- 
vation of  others,  but  our  service  he  will  disown : — he 
may  save  the  hearer,  but  he  will  reject  the  preacher. 

I  have  endeavoured  to  set  before  you,  and  to  press 
upon  your  serious  attention,  the  doctrine  taught,  and 
the  conduct  recommended  and  enjoined,  in  this  interest- 
ing portion  of  the  sacred  volume,  I  hope  with  a  sincere 
desire  to  promote  the  honour  of  my   Master,  and  the 
present  and  future  benefit  of  my  hearers.  But  whatever 
may  have  been  the  motives  and  aims  of  the  preacher, 
of  one  thing  be  ye  confidently  assured,  that  in  all  that 
he  has  revealed,--in  every  doctrine,  every  precept,  every 
promise,  every  warning,  every  threatening,  the  Divine 
Author  of  the  Bible  has  your  good  invariably  in  view. 
By  what  else,  indeed,  could  he  be  influenced  ?— To  his 
doctrines  docs  he  not  graciously  subjoin.  Believe,  and 
live  ? — Where  amongst  his  precepts  is  the  one  that  is 
not  fitted  to  promote  the  well-being  of  him  that  keeps 
it  ? — His  promises  ! — are  they  not  ^'  exceeding  great 
and  precious  ?" — What  is  the  sum  of  all  his  warnings, 
but  Do  thyself  no  harm  ?— And  even  his  threatenings, 
— the  most  tremendous  declarations  of  the  coming  wrath, 
—are  they  not  the  utterance  of  mercy  ? — of  that  mercy 
that  is  "not  willing  that  any  should  perish,"  and  that 
"  has  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  him  that  dieth  V — 
What  is  the  language  of  every  one  of  them,  coming 
from  the  very  heart  of  tiiat  infinite   Being   who   "  de- 
Jighteth  in  mercy  ?" — Is  it  not,  "  Kscape  for  thy  lifei'' 


572        LECTURE  XXIII.    ECCLES.  XII.   8 14. 

•"Flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  !"   "  Turn  ye,  turn  ye, 
for  why  will  ye  die  ?" 

Are  not  the  two  great  lessons  of  that  book  of  which 
we  are  now  closing  our  review,  lessons  dictated  by  the 
love  of  a  benevolent  God  ?  Why  docs  he  record  in  his 
word,  and  urge  upon  your  attention,  the  assurance  that 
"all  is  vanity,"  but  to  keep  you  fiom  deceiving  your- 
selves, where  deception  would  be  your  ruin  ?-~-Why 
does  he  exhibit  the  emptiness  of  the  shadow,  but  to 
induce  you  to  lay  hold  on  the  substance  ? — Why  does 
he  warn  you  away  from  the  "  streams  of  false  delight," 
but  to  conduct  you  to  the  fountain  of  unmingled  and 
eternal  joy  ?— Be  assured,  every  one  of  you,  that  all  the 
contents  of  his  word  are  in  harmony  with  the  kindness 
of  his  heart :— that  he  makes  nothing  your  duty  which 
you  will  not  find  to  be  at  the  same  time  your  interest : 
—and  under  this  conviction,  hear  again  "  the  conclusion 
of  the  whole  matter,"  the  comprehensive  summary  of 
these  •'  words  of  the  wise"  to  which  we  have  been  at- 
tending,—  the  aim  of  the  writer  from  the  beginning  to 
the  close  of  his  treatise, — the  end  to  which  he  meant 
all  his  details  to  lead,— the  grand  lesson  which  the  whole 
were  intended  to  teach  and  to  impress  ;  may  it  be  graven 
in  indelible  characters  on  all  your  hearts,  and  may  the 
God  by  whose  authority  it  comes,  give  you  to  enjoy 
the  full  experience  of  its  truth  ! — "  fear  God,  and 
KEEP  HIS  commandments;  for  this  is  all  that 

CONCERNETH  MAn!" 


END  OF  THE  LECTURER. 


SEIIMON;* 

Preached  on  occasion  of  the  Author's  Fa- 
ther, William  Wardlaw,  Es(^.  who  was 
removed   from  this  world  to  the  world  of 

SPIRITS,   ON    THE    MORNING    OF    THE    LORD's    DAY, 

May  20th,  1821,  in  the  80th  year  of  his  age. 


Gen.  xlix.  29 — 31. 

:9  "  ^nd  he  charged  than^  and  said  unto  them,  I  a7n  Co  be  gathered 
unto  mil  fieofile  :  bury  me  VJith  my  fathers,  in  the  cave  that  fisj  in 

"50  in  the  f  eld  of  Ejihron  the  Hittite  ;  In  the  cave  that  (is  J  in  the  field 
of  Machfitlah,  which  fisj  before  Mamre,  in  the  land  of  Canaan, 
ivhich  Abraham  bought  with  the  field  of  Ejihron  the  Hittite.  for  a 

r>l  fiossession  of  a  burying-place.  There  they  buried  Abraham  and 
Sarah  his  wife;  there  they  buried  Isaac  and  Rebekah  his  wife  ;  and 
there  I  buried  lA-ah.'" 


It  is  but  a  few  weeks,  my  brethren,  since,  in  address- 
ing consolation  to  mourners  in  our  assembly,  I  had  oc- 
casion to  observe,  that  such  subjects  were  never  un- 
seasonable to  any  ;  because  none  of  us,  in  the  midst  oi" 
the  most  complete  enjoyment,  could  possibly  tell  how 
soon  the  same  comforts  might  be  needed  by  ourselves.  I 
did  not  then  anticipate,  that  myself  and  my  kindred  were 
to  aftbrd,  as  we  do  this  day,  appearing  amongst  you  in 
the  garb  of  sorrow,  an  exemplification  of  the  truth  of 
the  remark.  And  I  cannot  be  sure,  but  that,  in  follow- 
ing the  current  of  my  own  feelings,  whilst  I  am  sooth- 
ing the  spirit  of  my  weeping  friends,  I  may  be  also  pre- 
paring some  others  for  the  arrival  of  similar  afflictions. 

*  Sjc  rrefacc,  page  vii. 


574  SERMON  ON 

—May  the  Spirit  of  God,— the  Spirit  of  power  and  of 
peace, — be  with  us,  whilst  we  meditate  on  the  interest- 
ing views  that  are  suggested  by  the  text ! 

The  name  of  Jacob  is  one  of  three,  on  which  the 
highest  honour  has  been  conferred  that  could  be  be- 
stowed on  the  names  of  mortal  men ; — that  of  being 
associated  with  the  name  of  Jehovah,  in  the  designation, 
chosen  by  himself,  and  to  be  transmitted  to  the  close 
of  time, — "  I  am  the  God  of  Abraham,  the  God  of 
Isaac,  and  the  God  of  Jacob  : — this  is  my  name  for 
ever  :  and  this  is  my  memorial  unto  all  generations."* 
— The  covenant  made  with  Abraham,  four  hundred 
*dnd  thirty  years  before  the  law,  being  the  covenant  of 
grace,  the  designation  is  one  of  much  the  same  import 
with  the  '^God  of  salvation,"  or  the  "  God  and  Father 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  And  he  is  the  God  of  all 
who  are  of  the  faith  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob ; 
their  faith  having  been  the  faith  of  the  gospel,  then  re- 
vealed in  promise,  as  it  is  now  in  testimony. 

The  text  presents  to  our  view  one  of  these  venerable 
patriarchs  approaching  the  close  of  his  earthly  pilgri- 
mage. "  The  time  was  come,  that  Israel  must  die." 

t  Of  all  the  periods  and  events  of  life,  the  concluding 
scene  is  accompanied  with  the  deepest  interest  both  to 
the  person  himself  and  to  surviving  spectators.  Various 
are  the  ways  in  which  it  comes,  and  various  the  aspects 
it  presents ;  but  in  all  it  is  affecting  and  solemn.  What 
can  be  more  so,  than  the  approach  of  that  moment 
which,  to  the  dying  man,  is  the  boundary  between 
time  and  eternity  ;  terminating  the  one  and  commenc- 

♦  Exod.  iii.  6,  15. 
f  The  following  pai-agraph  has  already  formed  a  part  of  Lecture  XXII.  page 
544   It  was  inserted  there,  when  there  was  no  thought  of  publishing  this  Ser- 
mon, to  which  it  originally  belonged.     It  is  here  repeated  for  the  sake  of  con- 
nection. 


GEN.  XLIX.  29 — 31.  675 

ing  the  other  ?  putting  an  end  to  all  his  interests  in  this 
world,  and  fixing  his  condition  for  a  never-ending  ex- 
istence in  Che  world  unknown !— What  can  be  more  so, 
than  those  moments  of  silent  and  indescribable  anxiety, 
when  the  last  sands  of  the  numbered  hour  arc  running; 
when  the  beat  of  the  heart  has  become  too  languid  to  be 
felt  at  the  extremities  of  the  frame  ;  when  the  cold  hand 
returns  not  the  gentle  pressure  ;  when  the  eye  is  fixed, 
and  the  ear  turns  no  more  toward  the  voice  of  consol- 
ing kindness;  when  the  restless  limbs  are  still  and  mo- 
tionless; when  the  breath,  before  oppressive  and  labori- 
ous, becomes  feebler  and  feebler,  till  it  dies  away, — 
and  to  the  listening  ear  there  is  no  sound  amidst  the 
breathless  silence,  nor  to  the  arrested  eye,  that  watches 
with  the  unmoving  look  of  thrilling  solicitude  for  the 
last  symptom  of  remaining  life,  is  motion  longer  pre- 
ceptible  ; — when  surrounding  friends  continue  to  speak 
in  whispers,  and  to  step  through  the  chamber  on  the 
tiptoe  of  cautious  quietness,  as  if  still  fearful  of  disturb- 
ing him — whom  the  noise  of  a  thousand  thunders  could 
not  startle. 

Have  you  witnessed  such  a  scene,  my  friends  ?  If  you 
have  not,  you  have  yet  to  experience  the  most  deeply  so- 
lemn feelings  of  which  the  bosom  of  man  is  susceptible. 
And  they  are  feelings,  rendered  the  more  solemn  by 
the  thought,  that  what  we  now  witness  in  another  shall 
very  soon  be  witnessed  by  others  in  ourselves.  The 
scenes  of  another  man's  life  may  be  such  as  can  hardly 
be  expected  ever  to  occur  to  us  ;  but  the  dying  scene 
is  one  which  must  come  to  all.  There  is  no  passage  to 
another  world,  but  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death.  By  that  way  all  must  go,  whether  it  conduct 
them  to  the  abodes  of  bliss  or  to  those  of  misery.  This 
eives  us  an  interest  in  the  death  of  every  one  that  dies. 


576*  SERMON  ON 

[We  then  behold  what,  in  one  form  or  another,  must 
inevitably  befall  ourselves. 

When  the  king  of  Egypt,  interested  by  the  venera- 
ble  appearance  of  the  aged  stranger,  asked  Jacob  the 
natural  and  simple  question,  "  How  old  art  thou  ?"  the 
reply  of  the  patriarch  was  that  of  one  who,  having  em- 
braced the  promises,  "  confessed  himself  a  stranger  and 
a  pilgrim  on  the  earth  :"— "The  days  of  the  years  of 
my  pilgrimage  (are)  a  hundred  and  thirty  years :  few 
and  evil  have  the  days  of  the  years  of  my  life  been,  and 
have  not  attained  unto  the  days  of  the  years  of  the  life 
of  my  fathers  in  the  days  of  their  pilgrimage."* 

These  years  of  pilgrimage,  to  which  seventeen  more 
were  yet  to  be  added,  had  been  very  interesting  and 
eventful.  The  patriarch  had  experienced,  in  no  com- 
mon degree,  the  vicissitudes  of  the  world.  He  had  tast- 
ed, and  had  even  drunk  largely,  both  of  its  bitter  and 
its  sweet.  His  old  age  had  been  tried  with  peculiarly 
severe  afflictions ;  but  it  had  also  been  cheered  by  pe- 
culiarly exquisite  joys.  He  had  wept  tears  of  anguish 
over  his  beloved  Rachel !  he  had  afterwards  mourned 
for  Joseph,  and  refused  to  be  comforted,  saying,  "  I 
will  go  down  unto  the  grave  to  my  son  mourning  ;" 
he  had  feared  for  Simeon ;  he  had  trembled  for  Benja- 
min ;  he  had  said,  in  the  disquietude  of  his  soul,  "  All 
these  things  are  against  me." — But  he  had  lived  to 
find  himself  mistaken:  he  had  lived  to  see  not  only 
Joseph,  whom  for  twenty  years  he  had  given  up  as  lost, 
but  the  children  of  Joseph  :  "  1  had  not  thought,"  said 
he,  "  to  see  thy  face  ;  and  lo,  God  hath  showed  me 
also  thy  seed."  Thus  "  at  evening  time  there  was 
light." — He  was  now  sensible  of  his  approaching  end. 
He  had  called  his  sons  around  him.     Under  the  power 

*  Gen.  •slvli.  8,  9. 


GEN.  XLIX.  29—31.  577 

of  a  prophetic  spirit,  he  had  pronounced  the  blessing 
of  each,  according  to  the  future  condition  of  their  re- 
spective tribes  :  and,  ere  he  *'  gathered  up  his  feet  into 
the  bed,  and  yielded  up  the  ghost,"  he  charged  his  sons    ~ 
in  the  words  which  form  our  text. 

We  shall  consider  them  as  the  language — 

I.  Of  RESIGNED   AND    TRANq^UIL    COMPOSURE, 

II.  Of  NATURAL  AFFECTION. 

III.  Of  FAITH    AND    HOPE. 

I.  They  are  the  words  of  resigned  and  tranquil  com- 
posure.— The  prospect  of  death  is  an  awful  and  alarm- 
ing one  :— alarming  to  nature,  which  startles  and  shrinks 
from  dissolution,  and  from  the  mysterious  and  unknown 
sensations  which  must  accompany  it;  sensations  which 
none  who  have  experienced  them  have  returned  to  ^q^ 
scribe:— alarming  to  con5Ci>«ce,  which,  sensible  of  guilt, 
is  appalled  by  the  assurance  that  "  after  death  is  the 
judgment." 

But  in  the  text,  there  is  no  overwhelming  agitation, 
no  startling  and  shrinking  timidity  ;  but  the  calm  and  / 
steady  contemplation  of  the  coming  event,  indicated 
by  the  perfect  collectedness  and  the  detailed  particu- 
larity of  the  patriarch's  instructions  respecting  the  place 
of  his  burial. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  flatter  you  with  the  assurance, 
that  in  every  case  composure  like  this  is  a  certain  mdi- 
cation  that  all  is  well.  So  we  are  very  apt  to  interpret 
it.  But  there  have  not  been  wanting  instances,  in  which  • 
there  has  been  too  convincing  evidence  of  the  falsehood 
of  the  inference.— The  "  heart  is  deceitful  above  all 
things  ;"  and  the  heart  that  has  deceived  a  man  through 
life  may  deceive  him  also  in  death.  The  man  who  has 
long  and  systematically  cherished  low  thouglus  of  the 
purity  and  the  justice  of  God;  who.  instead  of  bring- 


i578  SERaioN  ON 

ing  himself  to  tlie  test  of  his  spiritual  and  perfect  law, 
has-  forgotten  the  first  of  all  its  demands,  the  love  of 
God  with  all  the  heart,  and  soul,  and  mind,  and  strength, 
and  has  estimated  his  morality  from  his  relation  to  fel- 
low-creatures only  ;  who  has  measured  himself  by  the 
characters  of  others  ;  by  the  laws  of  men,  and  the  stand- 
ard of  virtue  in  a  fallen  world ; — may  continue  to  do 
the  same  even  to  the  end  :  and,  to  the  eye  that  has  no 
spiritual  discernment,  the  very  ignorance  of  God  may 
impart  a  composure  that  may  pass  for  a  well-grounded 
peace  ; — a  composure,  which  a  right  apprehension  of 
the  holiness  and  justice  of  offended  Deity  would  in- 
stantly turn  into  the  tremblings  of  despair. 

But  such  was  not  the  composure  of  the  dying  patri- 
arch. Jacob  had  been  a  pilgrim  in  this  world.  He  had 
walked  with  God,  as  in  a  strange  land,  travelling  home- 
wards, to  the  heavenly  country.  Though  in  the  world, 
he  was  not  o/'the  world.  God  was  his  friend,  and  hea- 
ven his  home.  It  was  not  the  composure  of  ignorance; 
but,  as  we  shall  afterwards  more  fully  sec,  of  knowledge 
and  of  faith.  "  Mark  the  perfect  (man,)  and  behold  the 
upright :  for  the  end  of  (that)  man  (is)  peace."*  The 
dying  patriarch  resigns  himself  to  God  ;  and  anticipates 
and  meets  his  departure  with  the  most  dignified  tran- 
quillity, and  without  a  disquieting  apprehension.  "  I 
have  waited  for  thy  salvation,  O  God."  This  had  been 
the  exercise  of  his  life  ;  and  this  was  his  hope  in  death. 
Neither  the  unknown  feelings  of  dissolution,  nor  the 
dreary  darkness,  and  solitude,  and  revolting  corruption 
of  the  grave,  nor  the  leaving  behind  him  of  the  com- 
forts of  life,  and  the  endearments  of  domestic  society, 
which  had  been  so  wonderfully  restored  and  enlarged 
to  him  ;— no— nor  the  prospect  of  appearing,  in  his  un- 

*  Psal.  xxxvii.  37, 


GEN.  XLIX.  29 — 31.  579 

clothed  spirit,  before  the  vision  of  the  most  High,  and 
the  most  Holy,  shook  his  serene  and  steadfast  soul. 

II.  The  words  of  the  text  are  the  language  of  natu- 
ral affection. 

The  circumstances  which  he  here  mentions,—"  There 
they  buried  Abraham  and  Sarah  his  wife  ;   there  they 
buried  Isaac  and  Rebekah  his  wife  ;  and  there  I  buried 
Leah," — could  not  be  intended  to  assist  his  sons  in  as- 
certaining  the  spot.     That  there  could  be  no  difficulty 
in  finding.     It  is  the  language  of  fond  recollection,  by 
which,  whilst  he  revived  in  his  own  bosom  the  tender- 
ness of  former  love,  he  reminded  his  sons,  that,  when 
they  should  lay  him  there,  they  should  remember,  with 
becoming  affection  and  veneration,  the  precious  depo- 
sits that  had  been  committed  to  that  tomb  before  him  ; 
that  they  should  drop  a  tear  not  for  their  father  only, 
but  for  their  long-departed  mother,  and  for  his  aged, 
and  loved,  and  revered,  progenitors.— These  had  been 
the  objects  of  endeared  affection  in  life  ;  and,  although 
death  had  removed  them  from  the  world,  and  from  sight 
and  social  intercourse,  it  had  left  the  feelings  of  nature 
in  all  their  tenderness.  Connubial  and  filial  love  expire 
not  when  the  objects  of  them  die.  Death  bursts  indeed 
the  bond  that  formed  the  living  connection.  But,  while 
he  mournfully  succeeds  in  this,  he  is  unable  to  sever 
those  ties  which  memory  still  continues  to  twine  around 
the  heart.  Those  ties,  on  the  contrary,  are  rather  drawn 
the  closer  :   they  are  softened,  and  they  arc  strength- 
ened.     The  dead  become  dearer  to  us  than  the  living. 
Their  ashes  are  hallowed.  Their  graves  are  an  inviola- 
ble  sanctuary.  There  is  a  tenderness,  and  a  sacredness, 
and  a  sweet  solemnity  imparted  to  all  the  feelings  ;  and 
whatever  touches  their  memory  "  touches  the  apple  of 
our  eye,"  even  with  acuter  sensibility  than  what  af- 
fected  their  living  reputation. 


580  SERMON   OK 

Jacob  was  attached  to  the  departed  spirits  of  the  pious 
d.ead,  though  he  could  not  see  them,  nor  hold  converse 
with  them  in  the  language  of  earth  ;  and  he  was  attached 
to  their  dust, — the  dust  that  had  once  been  animated  by 
these  "  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect ;"  and  he  was 
attached  by  all  the  melting  power  of  living  associations, 
to  the  spot  where  that  dust  was  laid  :  "  There  they 
buried  Abraham  and  Sarah  his  wife  5  there  they  buried 
Isaac  and  Rebekah  his  wife  ;  and  there  I  buried  Leah." 

We  are  quite  unable,  my  friends,  to  form  to  our- 
selves the  idea  of  a  state  of  insensibility.  The  very  con- 
ception we  attempt  to  form  of  the  absence  of  conscious- 
ness, is  the  conception  of  a  something  of  which  we  still 
imasrine  ourselves  to  continue  sensible. — When  we  think 
of  being  laid  in  the  grave,  it  is  with  the  impression, 
(which  we  are  thus  unable  to  dismiss  from  our  minds,) 
of  remaining  consciousness.  We  cannot  but  fancy  our- 
selves to  be  sensible  of  the  darkness,  the  solitude,  the 
confinement,  the  cold,  and  the  corruption  of  the  tomb. 
—On  the  same  kind  of  principle,  (qnly  that  whilst,  in 
the  former  case,  the  illusion  is  painful,  in  this  it  en- 
genders a  sweetly  pleasing  and  tender  melancholy,)  we 
imagine  ourselves  to  continue  sensible  to  the  delight  of 
being  near  those  friends  who  in  life  were  so  dear  to  us. 
Our  judgments,  it  is  true,  are  satisfied  that  the  dust 
pf  the  tomb  is  as  devoid  of  sensibility  as  the  earth  in 
which  it  has  been  deposited  :  but,  try  as  we  may,  we 
cannot  entirely  divest  ourselves  of  the  conception  of  re- 
maining consciousness. 

The  wish  to  be  laid,  in  death,  beside  those  whom 
we  loved  in  life,  is  the  dictate  of  nature  :— it  is,  as  far 
as  we  know,  universal :  there  is  no  reasoning  us  out  of 
it.  We  may  speculate,  and  argue,  and  convince  our- 
selves and  one  another,  that  it  will  be  all  one  in  the 


GEN.  XLIX.  29 — 31.  581 

end.  But  still,  nature  pleads,  and  will  be  heard.  It  is  a 
cause,  in  wYiioh  feeling  carries  it  against  all  argument. 
And  why  not  ?  Be  it  so,  that  it  is  an  illusion  :  it  is  a 
pleasing  one,  and  it  is  at  least  harmless.— Perhaps,  in- 
deed, we  might  take  higher  ground,  than  the  ground 
of  harmless  illusion.  We  shall  live  in  our  separate 
spirits; — live,  not  merely  in  conscious  existence,  but 
in  the  full,  and  free,  and  perfect  exercise  of  all  our 
spiritual  faculties.  And  shall  our  separate  spirits  be 
altogether  unconcerned  about  those  bodies  of  which 
they  were  before  the  living  and  the  animating  tenants? 
I  see  no  reason  to  suppose  it.  The  state  of  the  departed 
child  of  God  is  still  a  state  of  hope.  The  spirits  of  the 
just  are  still  "  looking  for  the  adoption,  to  wit,  the  re- 
demption of  their  bodies."  And  the  living  and  intelli- 
gent soul  may  know  the  spot  that  contains  the  dust  of 
its  earthly  tabernacle,  and  still  please  itself  (if  indeed 
you  do  not  think  such  pleasure  too  infantile  for  hea- 
ven) with  its  proximity  to  the  dust  of  Christian  kin- 
dred, that  were  loved  and  honoured  on  earth,  and  whose 
spirits  form  part  of  the  society  of  heaven.— At  any  rate, 
the  appellation  given  by  Nehemiah  to  his  native  country, 
to  which  he  was  longing  to  return,  was  one  suggested 
by  the  finest  feelings  of  his  heart,  ^'The  place  or 
MY  fathers'  sepulchres  :"— and  the  language  of 
Ruth  to  Naomi  is,  in  every  expression  it  contains,  the 
utterance  of  genuine  affection  :— "  Entreat  me  not  to 
leave  thee,  (or)  to  return  from  following  after  thee:  for 
whither  thou  goest,  I  will  go  ;  and  where  thou  lodgest, 
I  will  lodge  :  thy  people  (shall  be)  my  people,  and  thy 
God  my  God  :  where  thou  dicst,  will  I  die,  and  there 
will  1  be  buried:  the  Lord  do  so  to  me,  and  more  also, 
(if  ought)  but  death  part  thee  and  me."* 

•  Uuth  i.  16,  17. 


582  SERMON    ON 

And  whilst  such  feelings  are  natural  as  to  the  place 
where,  when  we  come  to  die,  we  should  wish  to  be  our- 
selves,  they  are  no  less  so,  when  we  are  called  to  com- 
mit to  the  silent  grave  the  bodies  of  our  departed  Chris- 
tian relatives. — We  long  for  the  return  of  our  friends 
when,  during  life,  they  go  away  from  us  to  a  distant 
place  of  sojourning  :— and  when,  by  the  disposal  of  pro- 
vidence, their  bones  are  left  in  a  land  of  strangers,  far 
from  "  their  fathers'  sepulchres,"  we  still  feel  as  if  they 
were  not  at  home.  We  love  to  have  them  near  us,  even 
in  death.  We  delight  also  in  the  thought  of  their  mix- 
ing with  kindred  dust,  of  their  resting  together  in  the 
bed  of  their  last  sleep.  It  takes  off  from  the  grave  the 
association  of  loneliness,  and  renders  the  impression  on 
the  fancy  less  dreary  and  forbidding. 

But  1  must  not  anticipate  what  remains  to  be  said 
on  the  third  view  of  the  patriarch's  dying  charge  :  — 

III.  It  is  the  language  ofjaith  and  hope.  Abraham, 
Isaac,  and  Jacob  were  •'  heirs  of  the  same  promise." 
It  had  been  made  successively  to  each  of  them.  To 
Jacob  it  had  been  several  times  repeated,  and  on  occa- 
sions peculiarly  interesting.* 

When  the  patriarch  came  down  into  Egypt,  he  did 
not  lose  sight  of  the  promise  of  God's  covenant.  It  was 
not  a  final  relinquishment  of  the  promised  land.  He  was 
himself  indeed  to  die  in  Egypt  ;  but  he  was  desirous, 
and  by  the  charge  in  the  text  he  intimated  the  desire 
to  his  sons,  that  even  in  death  he  should  be  a  possessor 
of  that  land  ;  thus  testifying  his  own  faith,  and  establish- 
ing theirs.  — He  appears  to  have  been  particularly  so- 
licitous that  this  cliarge  should  not  be  neglected :  he 
repeatedly  enjoins  it,  and  even  binds  it  with  an  oath. 
On  a  previous  occasion,  but  in  prospect  too  of  the 

*  See  Gen.  xxviii.lO— 15.  sxxv.  9 — 13. 


GEN.  XLIX.  29 — 31.  583 

close  of  life,  the  history  informs  us,  "  He  called  his  son 
Joseph,  and  said  unto  him,  If  now  I  have  found  grace 
in  thy  sight,  put,  I  pray  thee,  thy  hand  under  my  thigh, 
and  deal  kindly  and  truly  with  me  ;  bury  me  not,  1  pray 
thee,  in  Egypt :  but  I  will  lie  with  my  fathers,  and  thou 
shalt  carry  me  out  of  Egypt,  and  bury  mc  in  their 
burying-placc.  And  he  said,  I  will  do  as  thou  hast 
said.  And  he  said,  Swear  unto  me.  And  he  sware  unto 
liim.  And  Israel  bowed  himself  upon  the  bed's  head."* 
And  at  a  still  later  time — ^^  Israel  said  unto  Joseph,  Be- 
hold, I  die;  but  God  shall  be  with  you,  and  bring  you 
again  unto  the  land  of  your  fathers."!  Joseph  himself 
afterwards,  when  the  time  of  his  departure  drew  near, 
expressed  his  faith  in  the  same  way  with  his  venera- 
ble father :  *'  Joseph  said  unto  his  brethren,  I  die  :  and 
God  will  surely  visit  you,  and  bring  you  out  of  this 
land  into  the  land  which  he  sware  to  Abraham,  to  Isaac, 
and  to  Jacob.  And  Joseph  took  an  oath  of  the  children 
of  Israel,  saying,  God  will  surely  visit  you,  and  ye  shall 
carry  up  my  bones  from  hence. ":j: 

When  Jacob,  in  the  text,  commands  that  he  should 
be  laid  with  his  fathers,  he  intimates  his  determination 
to  have  his  part  with  them  ;— not  with  the  Egyptians, 
notwithstanding  the  kindness  he  had  experienced  at 
their  hands,  but  with  tho^e  chosen,  tried,  and  faithful 
friends  of  God,  who,  "  through  faith  and  patience," 
had  gone  to  "  inherit"  in  the  fulness  of  their  spiritual 
meaning,  "  the  promises"  which  had  been  equally 
made  to  them  and  to  himself. 

My  brethren,  could  we  be  set  down  by  "  the  cavt 
that  was  in  the  field  of  Ephron  the  Hittite;" — did  wc 
know  with  certainty  that  we  stood  beside  the  sepulchre 
of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob— of  those  justly  vcne- 

»  Cen.  xlvli.  29—31.  t  Gen.  xlviil.  3!.  *  fien.  1.  2X,  CJ. 


5S4i  SEilMON    ON 

rated  progenitors  of  the  Church  of  God ;— whilst  \vt 
reject  with  loathing  the  absurdities  of  hallowed  and 
wonder-working  relics,  yet  could  we,  think  you,  be  so 
insensible  to  the  influence  of  all  those  sacred  recollec- 
tions that  would  crowd  into  our  minds,  as  to  feel  no 
rising  emoiions  of  piety,  no  clinging  attachment  to  the 
spot  of  earth  that  received  in  old  time  the  mortal  re- 
mains of  so  much  worth  ? — the  tomb  of  the  father  of 
the  faithful,  and  "the  friend"  of  God  ;— the  tomb  of 
that  son,  that  only  son,  Isaac,  whom  he  loved, — that 
child  of  promise,  with  whom  the  covenant  was  con- 
firmed— that  man  of  piety  and  prayer,  who,  "  went  out 
at  eventide  to  his  devotional  meditations ;" — and  the 
tomb  of  him  whose  name  was  called  Israel,  because 
*'  as  a  prince  he  had  power,  with  God,  and  prevailed  ?" 
Well,  my  brethren,  we  are  heirs  with  Abraham, 
Isaac,  and  Jacob,  of  a  better  promise  than  that  of  Ca- 
naan ;  even  of  that  heavenly  country  of  which  the  earthly 
was  a  type, — and  a  type  understood  by  those  to  whom 
the  promise  of  it  was  made  :  "  By  faith  Abraham,  when 
he  was  called  to  go  out  into  a  place  which  he  should 
after  receive  for  an  inheritance,  obeyed ;  and  he  wen? 
out,  not  knowing  whither  he  went.  By  faith  he  so» 
journed  in  the  land  of  promise,  as  (in)  a  strange  coun- 
try, dwelling  in  tabernacles  with  Isaac  and  Jacob,  the 
heirs  with  him  of  the  same  promise :  for  he  looked  for 
a  city  which  hath  foundations,  whose  builder  and  ma- 
ker (is)  God  ?"  *'  These  all  died  in  faith,  not  having 
received  the  promises,  but  having  seen  them  afar  oiF, 
and  were  persuaded  of  (them,)  and  embraced  (them,) 
and  confessed  that  they  were  strangers  and  pilgrims  on 
the  earth.  For  they  that  say  such  things  declare  plainly 
that  they  seek  a  country.  And  truly,  if  they  had  been 
ijiindful  of  that  (country)  from  whence  they  came  out 


GEN.  XLIX.  S9 — 31.  585 

they  might  have  had  opportunity  to  have  returned : 
but  now  they  desire  a  better  (country,)  that  is,  a  hea- 
venly :  wherefore  God  is  not  ashamed  to  be  called  their 
God ;  for  he  hath  prepared  for  them  a  city."*  This 
then  was  what  supported  and  cheered  their  minds  ;  and 
not  the  mere  hope  of  an  earthly  inheritance  to  be  pos- 
sessed, when  they  were  gone,  by  their  posterity.  No 

Jacob  could  say  with  Job,  in  the  assurance  of  rising  to 
immortal  life  with  these  loved  and  venerated  friends — 
"  For  1  know  (that)  my  Redeemer  liveth,  and  (that)  he 
shall  stand  at  the  latter  (day)  upon  the  earth  :  and 
(though)  after  my  skin  (worms)  destroy  this  (body,) 
yet  in  my  flesh  shall  I  see  God :  whom  I  shall  see  for 
myself,  and  mine  eyes  shall  behold,  and  not  another; 
(though)  my  reins  be  consumed  within  me."f 

The  same  desire,  when  felt  by  us,  of  lying  besidr 
our  Christian  friends  in  the  narrow  house,  ought  to  be 
the  dictate  and  the  expression  of  the  same  faith.  Where, 
O  where  would  be  the  pleasure  of  the  thought,  if  th<* 
time  were  never  to  come 

*'  when  op'nlng  grave  shall  yield  their  charge, 
And  dust  to  life  awake  ?" 

But  for  this,  the  thought  would  be  destitute  of  all  its 
interest ;  nay,  would  be  intollerably  comfortless  and 
dreary  :— were  the  sleeping  dust  to  sleep  for  ever  !  It 
is  the  hope  of  rising  together  on  the  morning  of  that 
day  of  final  jubilee,  that  shall  be  ushered  in  by  the 
sounding  of  the  trump  of  God — that  '•  blessed  day, 
that  knows  no  morrow  !"  when  "  this  corruptible  shall 
put  on  incorruption,  and  this  mortal  shall  put  on  im 
mortality,  and  the  saying  shall  be  brought  to  pass  that 
is  written,  Death  (is)  swallowed  up  in  victory." 

How  full  of  transport  the  assurance  of  this  meeting 

♦  Hcb.  xi.  3—10.  13—16.  t  •''>'»  *'^-  ■-•^— -' 

4f: 


5&Q  SERMON  ON 

to  part  no  more !  of  sitting  down  together  with  Abra- 
ham, Isaacj  and  Jacob  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  !  We 
know  where  their  departed  spirits  are,  and  the  spirits  of 
all  who  have  fallen  asleep  in  Jesus.  Their  bodies  are 
scattered,  in  all  quarters  of  the  earth  and  sea ;  but  all 
their  souls  are  together  in  heaven  ;  and  additions  are 
daily  making  to  the  number.  The  celestial  abodes  have 
been  progressively  peopling,  ever  since  they  received 
the  solitary  spirit  of  the  murdered  Abel ;  the  first  of 
men  that  died  on  earth,  and  the  first  that  lived  in  hea- 
ven ;  and  at  last  there  shall  be  "  a  multitude,  which  no 
man  can  number,  of  all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and  peo- 
ples, and  tongues." 

O  how  important  is  it,  my  brethren,  that  earthly  re- 
lations should  be  one  in  Christ  /  Then  they  can  "  lie 
down  together  in  the  dust"  in  the  blessed  prospect  of 
rising  at  the  great  day  with  the  joy  of  mutual  recogni- 
tion. O  the  unutterable  difference  between  meeting  at 
that  day  ?iever  to  part,  and  parting  never  to  7neet  ! 

Think  not  that  I  have  chosen  this  text,  with  the 
view  of  drawing  any  parallel  between  the  life  and  cha- 
racter of  Jacob  and  that  of  the  loved  and  revered  rela- 
tive and  friend,  fellow-christian  and  fellow-citizen, 
whose  departure  we  this  day  mourn. — I  have  chosen 
it,  because  I  knew  the  reflections  suggested  by  it  to  be 
in  harmony  with  his  most  fondly  cherished  feelings ; 
and  because  they  afford  a  soothing  solace  to  those  spirits 
which  the  Lord,  by  his  bereaving  hand,  has  wounded. 
— Yet  are  there  some  points  of  coincidence,  on  which 
filial  affection  may  be  allowed,  for  a  little,  to  dwell. 

Like  Jacob,  the  child  of  godly  parents,  he  *'  feared 
the  Lord  from  his  youth  ;"  being  indebted  to  them,  as 
instruments,  for  his  spiritual  as  well  as  his  natural  life. 
—His  earthly  pilgrimage,  like  Jacob's,  was  long  :— like 


GEN.  XLIX.   29 31.  ;387 

ills  too  (and  in  this  indeed  there  is  in  neither  case  anv 
peculiarity)  it  was  a  chequered  scene  of  light  and  shade, 
of  sunshine  and  storni ;— and  like  his,  it  closed  in  peace  : 
the  sun  of  both  went  down  in  all  the  serenity  of  faith 
and  hope. — "  By  faitii"  Jacob,  like  the  other  "  Elders," 
**  obtained  a  good  report:" — and  1  trust  I  may  say, 
without  exposing  myself  to  the  charge  of  undue  par- 
tiality,  that  a  better  report  has  not  often  been"^obtained, 
than  that  which  was  enjoyed,  and  has  been  left  behind, 
by  him  who  has  so  recently  finished  his  course  amongst 
us.  Seldom  has  a  Christian  quitted  the  world  with  a 
reputation  more  unblemished,  with  a  character  more 
unsullied  by  the  breath  of  slander. 

My  brethren,  I  feel,  that  in  speaking  of  a  departed 
father,  a  son  who  loved  and  revered  him  is  on  delicate 
ground.  Yet  I  feel  also,  that  my  heart  must  have  utter- 
ance. Lying  under  obligations  to  him,  which  never  have 
been,  and  never  can  be,  repaid,  I  must  speak  of  him. 
You  would  accuse  me  of  want  of  sensibility  if  I  did 
not ;  and  1  appeal  for  my  vindication  to  the  paternal 
and  filial  sympathies  of  your  own  bosoms. 

The  good  report  which  he  possessed,  and  which 
attaches  to  his  memory,  was,  like  that  of  the  worthies 
of  older  times,  obtained  by  faith.  Yes,  my  friends,  this 
was  the  avowed  principle,  this  the  living  and  animating 
soul,  of  his  whole  character.  He  could  say  with  Paul, 
"  the  life  that  1  live  in  the  flesh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of 
the  Son  of  God,  who  loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for 
me."*  The  enlightened,  and  fervent,  and  elevated 
piety,  which  delighted  so  much  in  the  devotional  exer- 
cises of  the  closet,  the  family,  and  the  sanctuary,  and  in 
secret  meditation  on  that  blessed  word,  which  had  been 
the  constant  study  of  his  earlier  and  his  later  days,  with 

*  Gal.  ii.  20. 


588  SERMON   ON 

which  his  memory  was  richly  stored,  and  which  afforded 
him  a  source  of  the  sweetest  pleasure,  when  it  had  pleas- 
ed God  to  deprive  him  of  the  blessing  of  sight,  and 
greaUy  to  impair  that  of  hearing  ;  that  piety  which  in*, 
fused  its  sacred  influence  into  his  entire  deportment, 
was  piety  springing  from  the  firm  faith  of  "  the  glori- 
ous gospel  of  the  blessed  God."  When  I  touch,  there- 
fore, on  tne  excellences  of  his  character,  let  it  not  be 
imagined  that  1  mention  them  either  as  the  ground  of 
his  own  hope,  or  of  mine  concerning  him.  No  :  it  is  to 
the  honour  of  that  free  grace^  on  which  he  trusted,  in 
which  he  gloried,  which  was  his  theme  on  earth,  and 
is  now  his  theme  in  heaven.  His  acknowledgment, 
like  that  of  every  believer  of  the  gospel,  was,  *'  By  the 
grace  of  God  1  am  what  I  am:"  and  to  this  grace  he 
bore  his  dying  testimony.  Having  at  one  time,  on 
his  death-bed,  enumerated  the  blessings  of  salvation, 
amongst  which  he  gave  sanctification,  restoration  to 
the  image  of  God,  the  principle  place,  he  added — 
"  Thus  salvation  is  of  grace,  free  grace,  from  first  to 
last ;— every  part  of  it ;  all  grace,  that's  the  Bible  way 
of  it."  He  was  at  the  same  time  characteristically  jea- 
lous of  every  sentiment  that  bordered  in  the  remotest 
manner  on  antinomianism,  or  had  even  a  seeming  ten- 
dency towards  it, — any  thing  that  appeared  to  loosen 
the  connection  between  grace  and  godliness,  between 
faith  and  holy  practice  :  "  '  There  is  therefore  now,'  " 
said  he,  ^' '  no  condemnation  to  them  who  are  in  Christ 
Jesus  :'  but  we  must  never  forget,"  he  added,  "  the 
character  of  all  such,  '  who  walk  not  after  the  flesh,  but 
after  the  Spirit :'  this  is  the  test  of  interest  in  Christ." 
With  evangelical  piety  as  the  great  principle  of  his 
character,— a  piety  which,  founded  in  knowledge,  rested 
not  in  speculation,  but  drew  to  God  all  the  affections 


GEN.  XLIX.  29 — 31.  «89 

of  his  soul,— (for  often  was  he  wont  to  say,  that  religion 
without  the  affections  was  not  religion  at  all ;— he  could 
form  no  conception  of  it ;— it  was  a  contradiction  in 
terms;)— with  this  humble  and   heartfelt   piety  as   the 
element,  in  which  all  the  other  parts  of  his  ciiaracier 
were  steeped  and  imbued, — he  was  endeared  to  his 
friends  and  kindred  by  the  singularly  tender  and  unre- 
mitting exercise  of  all  the  domestic  affections,  which 
rendered  him  the  centre  of  attraction  and  union  to  a 
wide   circle  of  loved  and   loving  relatives,— a  circle, 
which  he  cheered   by  his  natural  buoyancy,  vivacity, 
and  playfulness  of  temper,  and  instructed  by  his  edify- 
ing and  enlivening  converse.     His  religion  did   not 
quench  the  light  of  cheerfulness ;  and  his  cheerfulness 
was  at  an  equal  remove  from  gloom  and  from  levity. 
He  retained   his  characteristic  pleasantry  even  to  the 
last. — He  was  esteemed  by  the  church  and  people  of 
Christ,  as  an  aged   pilgrim,  who  had  long  "  walked 
with  God,'*  and  exemplified  the  power  of  godliness  ; 
one  who  prayed  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem ;  who  de- 
lighted in  unity  ;  who  was  "  a  lover  of  good  men,"  and 
who  breathed  from  his  very  soul   the  prayer  of  the 
Apostle — ^^  Grace  be  with  all  them  that  love  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity  !" — And  he  was  respected  and 
commended  by  the  world  at  large  for  the  exemplary 
consistency  of  his  profession  and  conduct,  which  gave 
him   a  testimony  in  their  consciences,  such  as  they 
could  not  gainsay  nor  resist.— Both  in  public  and  pri- 
vate concerns,  in  the  duties  of  the  magistracy  and  the 
business  of  ordinary  life  ;   he  evinced  a  sound  and  en- 
lightened judgment,  in   maturity  of  investigation  and 
rectitude  of  decision.  He  cultivated  a  taste  for  classical 
literature,  which  was  more  than  a  useless  ornament :  it 
was  of  essential  benefit  in  the  education  of  his  family : 


590  SERMON  ON 

and  his  acquaintance  especially  with  the  original  lan- 
guage of  the  New  Testament  afforded  him  many  an 
hour  of  rich  and  sacred  pleasure.  He  was  distinguished, 
in  an  uncommon  degree,  by  the  most  unvarying  tem- 
perate regularity  of  living ;  by  scrupulous  punctuality 
to  all  engagements  ;  by  the  most  unbending  integrity  ; 
by  a  conscientious  eagerness  of  desire  to  make  every 
trust  productive,  under  his  management,  of  labour  to 
himself  and  of  benefit  to  others  ;  by  a  union  of  kindly 
affability  with  dignified  propriety  of  demeanour  ;  by 
steadiness  to  old  attachments,  and  a  religious  regard  to 
the  precept  "  thine  own  friend  and  thy  father's  friend 
forsake  not ;"  by  a  benevolent  liberality  of  heart,  which 
hardly  knew  how  to  resist  the  petitions  of  charity  and 
the  claims  of  the  cause  of  God,  and  which  to  his  power, 
and  beyond  his  power,  was  willing  to  answer  both  ;  and 
by  a  warm  attachment  to  the  government  of  his  coun- 
try. At  times,  indeed,  on  this  subject,  and  occasionally 
too  on  some  others,  there  was  evinced  a  degree  of  im- 
patient quickness  of  temper :  but  it  was  generally  of 
such  a  kind,  as  to  excite  a  smile  at  the  good  old  man's 
zeal,  rather  than  to  stir  in  the  bosom  the  slightest  re- 
turn of  unpleasant  feelings.  "  Whatsoever  things  were 
true,  and  just,  and  honourable,  and  pure,  and  lovely, 
and  of  good  report, — these  things  he  thought  of,"  and 
ever  prayed  for  grace  to  practise.— Whatever  his  par- 
tial friends  might  think  of  him,  he  was  himself  of  the 
"  poor  in  spirit."  His  devotional  exercises,  charac- 
terised by  correctness,  simplicity,  and  tenderness, 
breathed  the  spirit  of  conscious  unworthiness,  and  all 
the  lowliness  of  a  broken  and  contrite  heart.  When 
it  was  said  to  him,  during  his  last  illness,  "  You  have 
long  been  walking  with  God,  Sir,  he  replied,  "  I  have 
long  been  a  professor  at  least  of  the  blessed  name  of 


GEN.  XLIX.  29—31.  591 

Jesus  ;*'  and  he  shrunk  with  deep  inward  emotion  from 
the  thought  of  his  own  deficiencies. 

There  may  seem  a  sacredness  around  the  death-bed 
of  a  friend,  that  forbids  pubUcity,  and  shuts  it  in  from 
the  intrusion  of  strangers.  But  I  must  draw  the  curtain 
a  little  aside.  He  was  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel,  either 
in  life  or  in  death.  His  living  profession  was  public  ; 
and  why  should  not  his  dying  profession  be  pubhc  too? 
It  ought  to  be  known,  that  the  truth  to  which  he  had 
adhered  through  life,  sustained  him  in  death.  It  ought 
to  be  known,  that  the  God  of  his  fathers,  the  God 
whom  he  knew  and  served  and  trusted  from  his  youth, 
the  God  who  had  led  him  all  his  life  long,  did  not  for- 
sake him  at  last. 

His  latter  end  was  peace.  Like  that  of  Jacob  it  dis- 
played composure,  affection,  and  Jait/i. 

1.  Sensible  that  his  end  was  approaching,  not  a  word 
escaped  him,  nor  a  symptom  appeared,  that  indicated 
a  fear  of  dying  ;  nor  amidst  severe  bodily  suffering,  the 
slightest  expression  of  murmuring  or  impatience.  On 
the  contrary,  when,  within  a  few  hours  of  his  departure, 
he  repeated  the  words— ^'  He  who  testifieth  these  things, 
saith.  Surely  1  come  quickly  :  Amen.  Even  so,  come 
Lord  Jesus!"- — "that  is,"  he  added,  *'  come  quickly. 
But  this  must  not  be  understood  as  the  language  of  im- 
patience,— come  instantly) — come  now,  because  it  is 
my  time.  No,  I  would  say.  Come,  Lord  Jesus,  come 
in  thine  own  good  time,  in  thine  own  way,  and  by  thine 
own  appointed  means  :  for  these  are  always  best.  Ever, 
so  come.  Lord  Jesus!" — On  the  day  before  his  death, 
when  set  up  in  bed  for  temporary  ease,  he  all  at  once, 
to  the  delighted  surprise  of  those  of  us  who  were  by 
his  bed-side,  began  to  sing,  with  a  soft  and  plaintive 
sweetness,  in  his  circumstances  irresistibly  melting — 


592  SERMON  O^" 

"  Where  high  the  heav'nly  temple  stands. 
The  house  of  God  not  made  with  hands, 
A  great  High  Priest  our  nature  wears. 
The  guardian  of  mankind  appears:" 

and  sung  out  the  first  four  stanzas  ;— afterwards  repeat- 
ing, like  one  exhausted,  the  remaining  two.  My  ear  can 
never  lose  that  sound  ; — my  heart  can  never  lose  the 
sweetly  solemn  impression. — Such  too  was  his  collec- 
tedness,  that  he  made  particular  inquiries  about  various 
individuals  of  his  friends,  and  circumstances  connected 
with  them,  such  as  we  wondered  he  should  think  of  ;— 
wished  every  thing  to  go  on  in  the  usual  way ;  and 
when  it  came  to  the  hour  of  evening  family  prayer,  in- 
sisted on  all  being  called  in  by  the  ordinary  summons  j 
when  he  sung  a  hymn,  and  heard  a  short  portion  of 
the  word  of  God,  and  prayer  offered  up  by  his 
bed-side. 

2.  I  have  mentioned  the  tenderness  of  his  affections. 
They  regarded  both  the  living  and  the  dead.  He  has 
left  behind  him  a  large  circle  of  mourning  relatives : 
and  he  had  a  numerous  company  too  before  him. 
These  he  was  wont,  in  his  musings  on  the  heavenly 
world,  and  his  anticipations  of  entering  it,  to  delight 
himself  in  enumerating.  Beside  some  of  the  dearest  of 
them  his  precious  dust  has  been  laid  ;  over  more  than 
one  of  whom  we  have  formerly  had  occasion,  as  a 
church,  to  lift  up  the  voice  of  mourning.  These  his 
affectionate  and  purified  spirit  has  gone  to  join. — And 
his  attachment  to  his  surviving  relatives  retained,  in 
his  dying  moments,  all  its  living  force  and  tenderness : 
"  I  was  trying,"  said  he,  "  a  little  ago,  to  fall  into  a 
slumber;  but  instead  of  that,"  he  added,  with  a  full 
heart  and  eye,  and  a  voice  tremulous  with  tender  emo- 
tion— "  my  dear  friends, — you  and  all  the  rest,  came 
across  my  mind  :  1  thought  I  was  not  long  to  be  with 


GEN.  XLix.  SQ — 31.  593 

you  : — I  had  you  all  gathered  together  before  me  ;  and 
my  heart  went  out  to  God  in  most  sincere  and  earnest 
prayers  for  all  and  each  of  you,  that  the  Lord  might 
bless  you  all,  and  keep  you  from  evil,  and  bring  you 
to  his  heavenly  kingdom  !"  O  may  the  prayer  of  the 
dying  saint  be  heard  for  all  his  weeping  kindred,  that 
they  may  join  him  at  last  in  the  praises  and  the  joys  of 
the  upper  sanctuary  ! 

3.  His  faith  and  hope  were  to  the  last  unshaken.  He 
"  knew  whom  he  had  believed,"  and  enjoyed  the  de- 
lightful "persuasion,"  that  *' he  was  able  to  keep  that 
which  he  had  committed  to  him  against  that  day."  His 
hope  rested  on  the  finished  work  of  Jesus,  and  on  the 
word  of  Him  with  whom  it  is  "  impossible  to  lie ;"  and 
he  was  enabled  to  hold  it  fast  to  the  end.  When  the 
words  of  Christ  were  repeated  to  him,  *^  My  grace  is 
sufficient  for  thee,  for  my  strength  is  made  perfect  in 
weakness," — and  the  remark  was  added,—*'  This  is  a 
sure  a  faithful  word;" — ''It  is,''  said  he,  with  much 

emphasis  ;   "  it  is  firmer  than  mountains  of  l>rass." 

And  still  his  confidence  was  chastened  by  lowly  self- 
distrust,  and  accompanied  with  the  fervent  aspirations 
of  the  heart  for  the  supplies  of  needed  grace.  He  was 
delighted  with  the  thought  that  God  heard  the  breath- 
ings  of  the  heart;— and  at  times  these  breathings  gave 
themselves  utterance  in  words  :— "  Fulfil  in  mc,  O 
Lord,"  he  at  one  time  suddenly  broke  out,—"  Fulfil  in 
me  all  the  good  pleasure  of  thy  goodness,  and  the  work 
of  faith  with  power:"  "Wash  mc,  and  sanctify  mc, 
and  justify  me,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  by 
the  Spirit  of  our  God:"  ^*  Wash  me  thoroughly  fron^ 
mine  iniquity,  and  cleanse  mc  from  my  sin  :"  "  Create 
in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God;  and  renew  a  right  spirit 
4F 


594  SERMON    ON 

within  me.  Cast  me  not  away  from  tliy  presence ;  and 
,  take  not  thy  holy  Spirit  from  me.  Restore,"  (or  con- 
firm,  he  added,  for  he  himself  had  not  lost  them,) 
"  Confirm  unto  me  the  joy  of  thy  salvation ;  and  up- 
hold me  (by  thy)  free  Spirit." 

Such  was  the  frame  of  his  mind  during  the  days  of 
trouble  that  brought  his  earthly  pilgrimage  to  a  close  : 
— and  at  length  his  parting  soul  winged  its  flight  to  the 
happy  realms  of  purity  and  love,  on  the  morning  of 
that  day,  whose  return  he  had  so  often  hailed  with  such 
devotional  delight,  and  which  had  so  long  been  to  him 
the  foretaste  of  the  sabbath  of  eternal  rest ! 

The  general  subject  of  death  I  must  leave  to  be  taken 
up  and  practically  improved  at  another  opportunity. — 
In  the  meantime,  from  the  views  we  have  been  setting 
before  you,— let  mourning  relatives  be  comforted.  Je- 
sus says  to  you,  "  Weep  not."  Not  that  he  forbids  the 
tear  of  sorrow;  for  he  shed  it  himself: 

"  The  eye  of  Jesus  wept. 

It  dropt  a  holy  tear. 

When  Mary's  brother  slept, 

A  friend  to  Jesus  dear  : 

"Delightful  thought !  That  blessed  eye 

Still  beams  with  kindness  in  the  sky." 

But  in  the  midst  of  your  sorrow  he  gives  you  strong 
consolation  :  "  I  am  the  resurrection,  and  the  life  :  he 
that  belie veth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  h,e 
live  :"  "  1  would  not  have  you  to  be  ignorant,  brethren, 
concerning  them  who  are  asleep,  that  ye  sorrow  not, 
even  as  others  who  have  no  hope.  For  if  we  believe 
that  Jesus  died,  and  rose  again,  even  so  them  also  who 
sleep  in  Jesus  will  God  bring  v/ith  him.  For  this  we 
say  unto  you  by  the  word  of  the  Lord,  That  we  who 
are  alive  (and)  remain  unto  the  coming  of  the  Lord, 


GEN.  XLIX.  29 31.  59.7 

shall  not  prevent  them  who  are  asleep.  For  the  Lord 
himself  shall  descend  from  heaven  with  a  shout,  with  the 
voice  of  the  archangel,  and  with  the  trump  of  God ;  and 
the  dead  in  Christ  shall  rise  first:  then  we  who  are 
alive,  (and)  remain,  sliall  be  caught  up  together  with 
them  in  the  clouds,  to  meet  the  Lord  in  the  air :  and 
so  shall  we  ever  be  with  the  Lord.  Wherefore  comfort 
one  another  with  these  words."* 

To  his  fl^ec?  survivors  let  me  say  : — Cleave  with  pur- 
pose of  heart  to  tliat  God  and  Saviour  who  hath  gra- 
ciously said, — "  I  will  never  leave  thee,  I  will  never 
forsake  thee  :"  He  who  has  been  the  guide  of  your 
youth,  will  be  the  support  and  consolation  of  your  age. 
What  he  has  been  to  those  who  have  gone  before  you 
he  will  be  also  to  you  ;  when  heart  and  flesh  fail,  he 
will  be  ^^  the  strength  of  your  heart  and  your  portion 
for  ever." 

And  to  you,  dear  young  friends  and  relatives,  over 
whom  the  good  old  father  shed  many  a  tear  of  melting 
tenderness,  and  for  whom  he  breathed  many  a  fervent 
prayer  of  faith  and  love  at  the  mercy-seat  of  God,  to 
you  let  me  say,— "  Follow  him."  "  Know  thou  the 
God  of  thy  father,  and  serve  him  with  a  perfect  heart, 
and  with  a  willing  mind  ;  for  the  Lord  searcheth  all 
hearts,  and  understandeth  all  the  imaginations  of  the 
thoughts;  if  thou  seek  him,  he  will  be  found  of  thee; 
but  if  thou  forsake  him,  he  will  cast  thee  off  for  ever." 

Let  Christians  in  general  be  imitators  of  them  "  who 
through  faith  and  patience  inherit  the  promises." 

And  let  others  who  may  be  saying  as  Balaam  did, 
•'  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last 
end  be  like  his  !"  be  affectionately  entreated  to  "  follow 

♦   1  Tliess.  iv.  1,5— 1«. 


.396  SERMON   ON  GEN.  XLIX.  29 31. 

the  faith"  of  the  righteous  ;--to  make  his  Saviour  their 
Saviour,  his  God  their  God:  and  then  "the  end  of 
their  conversation"  shall  be  like  his.  "  They  shall  enter 
into  peace — they  shall  rest  in  their  beds  ;  even  every 
one  who  hath  walked  in  his  uprightness." 


BS1475  .W266 

Lectures  on  the  book  of  Ecclesiastes. 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary-Speer  Library 


1    1012  00028  7856 


